The Emma Cabot Series
by Nicole Berman
Summary: Alexandra Cabot's little sister turns the Special Victims Unit on its head. R rated version here, email me for the NC17 version.
1. Gone

The squeaking of her Adidas shoes echoed through the empty hallways as she ran as fast as her legs could carry her. She knew she'd broken every speeding and parking law the state of New York had, and she didn't give half a damn. Finally, she saw the faded gold letters heralding the Special Victims Unit squad room, and she threw the door open so hard that the gathering of detectives standing there, hauled out of their beds at two in the morning, jumped and stared at her. She skidded to a halt, breathless. "I'm Alexandra Cabot. Where's Cragen?" 

The sea of officers parted and Donald stepped forward. She took a deep breath and implored him with her eyes to explain just what the hell was going on. "So?" she finally offered, her shaking hands ready to wring his neck if he didn't explain on the spot. 

"That was fast," he commented, trying to guide her to his office. "Nice time from Westchester." 

She shrugged out of his grip and stopped dead in the path between the desks that lined the space. "Tell me what's going on. Just...tell me, please." 

He looked over her shoulder as the detectives watched the interlude. He sighed and turned her around so she faced his squad. "Folks, this is Assistant District Attorney Alexandra Cabot, out of Westchester County. Her sister is the..." he trailed off, feeling her angry eyes on him, and knew if he continued with the word 'victim', she'd haul off and deck him. "Her sister is Emma Cabot," he amended. 

Alex nodded slightly to the haggard group in front of her before asking, "What have we got?" 

Cragen turned back towards her slightly, trying to make the situation more private. "Alex, I think we should talk in my office." 

Her gaze remained on the blackboard standing behind the officers, the one with her sister's picture taped in the middle. "I think we both know there are no secrets in this, Donald," she replied quietly. "Just tell me." 

Cragen reached behind him and pulled Olivia's chair from behind her desk, and guided Alex into it. He returned to the board, clearing his throat slightly as an indirect order for his squad to focus on him and not Alexandra. "Emma Katherine Cabot, aged twenty-six. A master's candidate in architecture at NYU. Neighbors reported hearing an argument, a struggle and a woman screaming shortly before twelve-thirty this morning, and called police. Officers found the apartment torn apart, and blood spatter." He watched Alexandra turn her head away, not surprised when she asked a question. "Where was Jess?" 

"Jessica Marshall, Emma's roommate," Cragen clarified for the squad. "She's in Stamford this weekend, visiting her parents. She's been contacted and is driving in as we speak." 

"Is there anyone you can think of that may have wanted to hurt your sister, Ms. Cabot?" One of the detectives spoke, and Alex had to blink several times to see his face come into focus. She shook her head helplessly, rubbing the bridge of her nose. 

 "Game plan is this: interview the neighbors, talk to building security, see if the tapes show us anything. Munch and Cassidy are in charge of talking to the roommate, see if we can link any friends or boyfriends; Benson, Stabler, I want you back at the apartment." Cragen dismissed his squad with a nod and returned to Alexandra's side. He placed a hand on her shoulder and she rose, allowing him to guide her to his office. Once he shut the door, she looked up at him, fear evident in her eyes. He hugged her briefly, consoling her silently and then moved to his desk, fishing out a legal pad.

She sat in one of the offered chairs in front of his desk, looking him straight in the face. "What the hell was it, Donald? Random? Or did she know them?" 

Cragen sighed. "You know I can't tell you that, Alex." 

"Bull you can't," she retorted. "You haven't told me **anything**. You just called me and said 'Get to the city. There's a problem with Emma.' I'd say we have a problem. Now either you tell me what the hell's going on, or I go to her apartment and find out for myself." 

"I've already told you everything I know, Alex, I swear to you. We're still very early in this. But I need you to think of anybody who might have wanted to do this - boyfriends, ex-boyfriends, girlfriends..." 

Alex shook her head in frustration. "I just don't know, Donald." She paused, then looked back at him with determination in her eyes. "I need to go to the apartment. Maybe I can see if anything's out of place, see if anything triggers something in me." 

Cragen nodded. "You can ride with Benson and Stabler."   
  


* * *

"She's a live wire," Olivia commented dryly, taking a long drag on her last cigarette. Fine day she picked to quit, the first day of an investigation into the abduction of a legal eagle's kid sister. "An' lucky us, we get to baby-sit." 

Elliot shrugged, sipping at a Coke as the detectives lingered outside the 16th Precinct. "Give her a break, Liv. Her sister's been snatched; she's just tryin' to deal with it however she can." Benson was obviously less than pleased with their tour-guide detail, but he didn't mind too much. Sometimes family members got in the way of an investigation, but they could also be very helpful in working up a victim profile. He was explaining this to Olivia when she waved a hand at her partner to silence him. 

Olivia stubbed out her cigarette and eyed Alex as she came down the steps of headquarters to meet them. She put on her most professional tone and addressed the lawyer. "Miss Cabot," she began, with a tone of sympathy unmatched by her placid brown eyes, "I really don't think you should go through with this. Seeing the crime scene is too much for most family members." 

Alex's chuckle hid the shiver that coursed through her body as she stepped outside, and she cursed herself for not grabbing a heavier jacket. "First of all," she said, turning to face both detectives, "the name's Alex. Second of all, I know you must hate me infringing on your territory, and it's completely understandable. But this is **my** sister, Detective. I know where she keeps her cash, where she keeps her jewelry, what her routine most likely was before she was taken. I'm the best person to tell you how hard she fought those sons of bitches that took her." She shoved her hands in her pockets and expelled a snowy breath into the relative quiet before them. "I promise I won't touch anything, okay?" 

Olivia was quiet for a moment, surprised by the outburst. Although she had quite a polished exterior, Alexandra Cabot might just be more interesting than the detective had first thought. "Okay," she agreed. "Walk where we tell you to walk, don't touch anything, and if I say it's time to go, we go," she laid down the law. "Don't fight me on this," Olivia warned, her tone less threat than promise. "'Cause I will drag you out of there under arrest for obstruction if you fuck up my investigation." 

"Deal," Alex promised, following Olivia and Elliot to their waiting sedan. The drive to Emma's apartment was filled with compelling silence, and it wasn't until Alex saw the remaining police lights bouncing off the facade of the apartment building that the gravity of the situation hit her. The determination was evident in her stride as she exited the car, her eyes following the blue and red up to the lingering officers standing out on Emma's balcony. She waited until Olivia and Elliot passed by her before heading to the elevators, and forced herself to stay behind them as they entered the apartment. 

Elliot pointed to the ground, where white masking tape marked the walking line. "Stay between those strips and you'll be fine, Alex. Holler if you notice anything." 

Alex nodded her thanks, standing in the doorway. She took several steps into the living room, facing her sister's couch, table and television set. "Was the TV on when the police first arrived?" 

A uniformed officer nodded. "Yes, ma'am. TV was on, and there was some food on the coffee table." 

"Meaning she had dumped her stuff by the door here," Alex pointed to Emma's bag, "went into the kitchen, made herself a late dinner, and sat down to watch television." Alex shook her head. "Typical Emma; eat first, do everything else later." 

Elliot, who had stopped in the small hallway that led to the bedrooms, came back into the living room. "Everything else? As in, check the messages?" 

Alex nodded, and Elliot pressed 'play' on the apartment's answering machine. "Hey, Em," Alex's own voice filled the apartment. "It's eight-ten. I know you have class for a little while longer, but I just wanted to check in, see how everything is. Call me." Alexandra's assessment of her message-leaving was cut short by a male's voice following the beeping of the machine. "Emma, it's Mark. Call me, honey, please. You and I need to talk. I'll come over if I have to...I just need to see you." The machine whirred and beeped three times, indicating no more messages. 

"Mark?" Elliot looked at Alex questioningly. 

"Um, Mark Miller, I think. He and Emma dated a few years ago, but she hadn't mentioned anything about him in ages. I don't know why he'd be calling her." 

Jotting notes on her pad, Olivia asked without looking up, "Would she have told you if they'd gotten back together?" 

Alex shrugged. "I would hope so; she knew how much I liked Mark, how good I thought he was for her. He and I were fairly close while they were dating, too. That's definitely something to ask Jessie when you speak to her." She turned a slow, deliberate circle in the living room before facing Olivia and Elliot again. "Can I see her bedroom?" 

Olivia resisted the urge to ask 'Are you sure?' "If you want to," she said instead, tucking a chunk of unruly black hair behind her ear. 

Alex nodded, moving into the bedroom. She pointed to her sister's bed, saying, "All her cash and jewelry should be in a lockbox under her bed. You should also find a Heckler and Koch 9 MM taped to the underside of the frame. Her theory was that if they ever had a home invasion, Jess would go for the lockbox and Emma would get the gun." 

Elliot snapped on gloves and fished around under Emma's bed, pulling out the lockbox. "Looks secure," he commented, resting it on top of the comforter. "Gun's here, too." He removed the bullets from the chamber and looked at Alex. "Emma have a license for this?" 

Alex nodded. "It's in the lockbox. The key should be on her key ring." 

While Elliot found the key and opened the lockbox, Olivia paced the apartment. Her hands clenched in her pockets, the detective walked from one end of the tiny two-bedroom to the other, her eyes dark with thought as she searched for anything that might give her a hint where the girl was. "Alex!" Olivia called suddenly. "Does Emma have a cat?" 

"No," Alex replied, coming back out into the living room. "She never could stand the smell of kitty litter." 

Olivia crouched down and extended a gloved hand. "Then what's this?" she asked rhetorically. Snagging the nearly-invisible clump of hair, Olivia dropped it into a tiny evidence bag and stood, holding it out for Alex's inspection. 

Alex shook her head, handing the bag back to Olivia. 

Elliot returned from the bedroom, standing next to his partner and facing Alexandra. "Is there anything else you can think of?" 

Alex shook her head again, her frustration at her inability to help mounting. "Everything seems normal...like someone just snatched her out of thin air. The door's not busted as far as I can tell." 

"We're going to need to talk to more of her friends, people at school," Elliot continued, and Alex nodded again. "Her day planner should be in her bag." 

Elliot knelt down and searched the saddle bag, lifting out a black book. "Looks like we have some calls to make." 

Olivia agreed, her eyes on the blonde attorney. "Are you okay?" she finally asked. 

Alex sighed, but nodded. "I guess I'm as fine as can be expected. I just have no idea how to act right now - scared out of my mind, and so angry I could punch something." She took one last look at Emma's apartment before stepping into the hallway. "So what's next?" 

Elliot shot a look at Olivia before replying. "Well, we investigate. You go back home and wait for us to call you." 

Alex pinned him with disbelieving blue eyes. "You don't actually think I'm driving all the way back to Westchester when my sister's missing, do you?" 

"No," Olivia interjected. "He means 'go home' as in 'someplace you can catch a nap'. We have a cot back at Headquarters," she offered as they walked back toward the car. 

Alex nodded, even though she knew she would not find respite anywhere tonight. "Thank you." 

Elliot brushed past both women, but not before muttering to Olivia, "Live wire, indeed." 

"Shut up," Olivia hissed, turning to glance at Alex as they climbed into the sedan. "So...you're a DA?" she tried to make conversation. 

"ADA," Alex clarified, watching the city start to wake up as they passed. "Mostly petty stuff; contested traffic tickets, minor vandalism, and the occasional simple assault to liven things up. It's certainly nothing like what you do." 

Olivia fell silent, unsure how to reply. Normally, she would've tossed back a remark about how tracking down rapists and murderers wasn't all that exciting; considering the circumstances on that particular morning, she thought better of it, and reined in her sarcastic sense of humor. Glancing out the window, Olivia followed Alex's gaze to the buildings flying by. "If there's anything I can do to help..." She let the offer linger; maybe that would make up for her attitude earlier. The ADA, it seemed, had a strength Olivia could really respect. 

Alex smiled softly as she replied quietly, her voice far away. "How about getting my sister home?" Realizing what she had said, she cleared her throat and squared her shoulders with a shake of her head; now was not the time to get emotional. Elliot pulled the sedan back into the carpool area and Alex followed the detectives back into their squad room. "So, do I hover over you all morning, or do I steal your cot for an hour or so?" 

Elliot chuckled as he sat at his desk. "Liv'll show you where you can chill out. Time to wake up some co-eds." 

Olivia gestured for the other woman to follow her. "It's back here," she said, leading Alex toward the crash room. "You may have your choice of the bunk beds or the cot," the detective added as she opened the door, "depending on who's here." 

The room was empty and Olivia stepped in, making space for Alex to do the same. "Looks like it's all yours." She cleared her throat, then began softly, "I know how you feel - well, no I don't," Olivia corrected herself. "But I can imagine." With the same quiet strength she always showed, she continued, "And I'm going to do everything I can to bring Emma back safely. I want you to believe that." 

Alex smiled. "Thank you, Detective Benson. It's a comfort knowing the best is on the case." She sat down on the squeaky cot, bouncing slightly. "Not the Ritz," she grinned, "but it'll do." 

"Yeah, our budget doesn't allow for pillowtop mattresses," Olivia joked, trying to relieve what tension she could. "Need anything else before I get back to work?" 

Alex shook her head. "Get me if you need anything. I tend to have a way with Emma's friends...mostly by putting the fear of God into them when need-be, but hey, whatever works." 

"Okay," she said, but Olivia knew she wouldn't disturb the attorney for less than Emma's safe homecoming. She'd need all the rest she could get now, while things were still relatively sane. "Sleep well." 

Olivia slipped out, shutting the door behind her. The bullpen was humming with activity as the brunette claimed her chair, ready to attack the stack of papers in front of her. "Munch dumped the phones already?" she asked in wonder, glancing over a list of all the calls into and out of Emma Cabot's apartment in the preceding twenty-four hours. 

Elliot nodded. "Nothing much in the way of incoming, other than Alex, this Miller character and a Connecticut number that checks out as the roommate's parents' home. What's interesting are the outgoings; looks like our girl Emma called Mark back at ten-thirty. We found an address for him across town. Definitely gives him enough time to get to Emma's before the neighbors heard the argument." 

Standing, Olivia reached for her recently discarded jacket. "Let's go have a talk with Mr. Miller then, shall we?"   
  


* * *  
  


Showing Mark Miller toward the interview room, Olivia turned to her partner. "Elliot, take him in. I'll be right there." 

Alex nearly hit the roof as the door to the break room creaked open. She looked up from the legal pad Cassidy had given her and offered Olivia a small smile. "Hi." 

"Hey. Did you sleep at all?" 

Alex checked her watch. "Maybe half an hour? I kept having these thoughts about where she could be, who could have taken her..." she motioned to the legal pad. "Helps me clear my head and keep me from bothering Munch anymore than I already have." 

"Oh feel free to do that," Olivia deadpanned. "It's our favorite pastime around here." Pausing a second, she continued, "We found Mark Miller, and I thought you might like to be there for the interview." 

Alex nodded without hesitation. "Show me where to go." She followed Olivia through the bullpen, surprised at the difference a few hours made at the noise and activity levels. "Was Mark cooperative?" 

"Very," Olivia assured her. "He seems anxious to help find Emma." 

"Good," Alex replied. "Do you want me in there or just watching through the mirror?" 

Debating it briefly, Olivia decided she could always pull Alex out later. "You can come in. Just let us do our jobs," she reminded Alex. 

"Yes, ma'am," Alex replied, following Olivia through the door. 

Elliot looked up as the door opened, and he flashed Olivia a questioning look as Alex followed her. Alex, meanwhile, looked Mark straight in the face, trying to gauge how much he'd changed in the two years since he and Emma had split. 

Olivia sank into a chair across from the suspect, avoiding Elliot's stare. She'd deal with his questions later. 

"Alex." Mark nodded slowly, as if he'd expected Emma's overprotective big sister to be hovering nearby. "I'm so sorry." 

Alex smiled briefly. "Thanks, Mark." She pulled her chair next to Olivia, watching the young man before her. 

Elliot broke in, saying, "Mark was just going to tell me what he and Emma talked about last night on the phone." 

Mark glanced warily at Elliot. "Yeah. You sure I don't need a lawyer for this or something?" 

"Mark, you know I'm a lawyer. It's all fine," Alex assured. "We just need to know what happened last night so that we can get Emma home." 

"Oh. Okay." Mark sighed softly, rubbing his eyes with the heel of his hand before meeting Alex's eyes. "She called me around ten thirty," he confirmed. "I remember, 'cause I was channel-surfing before the rerun of X-Files came on at eleven." 

Olivia was taking notes quietly and looked up to catch Elliot's eyes. _So far, so good,_ she thought. 

"She wanted to know why I called," Mark said softly, his voice strained. "I told her I missed her." A smile flitted across his lips. "You don't forget a Cabot," he told Olivia. "Especially not Emma. We broke up two years ago, but we kept in touch. And I just - I don't know. I hoped maybe, since she wasn't seeing anyone—"

"How did you know she was single?" Olivia asked quickly. 

Mark faltered. "She - she told me, I guess. Or maybe I just assumed. I don't know." 

Olivia's sharp gaze never slipped from his face. "So you told Emma you wanted to get back together. Then what?" 

"She said no," Mark admitted. 

"But you didn't want to take 'no' for an answer, didja, Mark?" Elliot snapped, but quickly recovered his composure. "I mean, you must've really loved this girl to wait for her for two years. Most guys would've said 'Screw her' and moved on." 

Mark smiled wistfully. "She wasn't just a girl, Detective Stabler. Emma was—" 

"Is," Olivia corrected him warily. 

Mark's body snapped to attention. "Of course. I'm just...this is all so much to take in," he explained quickly. "Emma is the first girl I ever really loved, and the idea of her being hurt..." 

Elliot motioned for him to continue. "So you go over to her place, pour your heart out, she rejects you and what? You just leave?"

"No," Mark corrected him. "We got back together." 

Alex blinked several times. "What?" She shook her head slightly in Olivia's direction, indicating her disbelief. 

Mark glanced from Alex to Olivia. "Emma said she'd go out with me again. We made a date for Saturday." He paused in thought, wondering how to prove it. "And - and she said she'd have to cancel plans with you, Alex, but you wouldn't mind." 

"We were going to dinner," Alex confirmed. "When did she tell you she'd go out with you? On the phone, or when you went to her apartment?" 

"On the phone," Mark admitted. "By the time I got to her apartment, Emma was...a little worked up." His hand went to the scratches on his cheek woodenly. 

"A little worked up?" Elliot chuckled sardonically. "Looks to me like she got massively pissed at you, which doesn't jive with your whole love story scenario." 

"It..." Mark sighed. "Emma called me back about an hour after we hung up, ranting and raving. I couldn't understand half of what she was saying - something about breaking and entering. She said she was calling the cops, and I asked her what the hell was going on. That's when Emma told me she thought her apartment had been broken into. Apparently," Mark continued, his voice strained, "she'd gone to get changed into pajamas, and found her drawers had been rifled. She thought it was me. She wouldn't listen to reason, so I told her I was coming over. Being Emma," Mark said, rolling his eyes in Alex's direction, "she told me if I did, I'd go home with one testicle. I went anyway." 

"How did you know where she was?" Alex interjected. 

Frowning in confusion, Mark shrugged. "She was home...she'd just called me." 

Alex shook her head. "She had just moved, Mark. No more than a week earlier. And she told me - to my face - that I was the only one who knew where she was. So how'd you get her phone number?" 

"She gave it to me," he threw back defensively. 

"When did she have occasion to give it to you? She hadn't seen you in two years." 

"Alex, come on," Mark pleaded angrily. "I ran into Emma at a campus rally," he explained, directed his words to Olivia. "I mentioned getting back together and she gave me her number." 

"Regardless," Elliot replied, taking back control of his interview. "You went over to her apartment and what? Tried to shake some sense into her? Maybe you shook a little too hard, she got hurt, scratching you in the process. Probably made you angrier; maybe you snapped." 

"No!" Mark growled, proving Elliot's point. "Emma was pissed when I got there. We got in a shouting match and that's when she scratched me. It's nothing new for us; we love hard, we fight hard, Detective." Mark hadn't taken his eyes off Olivia. He knew instinctively that of the two, she was the one he had to convince of his truthfulness. 

Olivia eyed Mark with a stony gaze, daring him to give her an opportunity to crush his story with her boot heel. 

"What next?" she asked simply. 

Sighing, Mark rubbed his eyes. "Can I get a cup of coffee or something?" 

"When you tell us something we can use to find Emma Cabot." 

Glaring at her, Mark dropped his attitude after a second. "It wasn't me. Emma was pissed, didn't believe me and kicked me out. I left, and that's all I know, except that I tried to call to explain around one-fifteen and no one answered." 

"We've got our timeframe," Olivia said quietly, checking Mark out with a measured look. "Thank you." 

Standing, she gestured for Alex to follow her out of the room and leave Elliot with the suspect. 

Alex didn't move for a moment, watching Mark's eyes stare right back at her. Finally, she stood, brushing quickly past Olivia into the hallway. "Damn it," she said softly, rubbing her forehead. She looked at Olivia, trying to gauge what the detective's gut was telling her. "Do you believe him?" 

"Yeah." Olivia reached out, brushing her hand against Alex's briefly. "I think he's telling the truth. But this was good," she encouraged the ADA. "We established an approximate time for Emma's disappearance, that's going to help a **lot**." 

Alex squeezed Olivia's hand briefly, thankful for the support. She sighed, looking back towards the interrogation room, watching Elliot drill Mark. "I just don't know why she wouldn't have told me, you know? We've been so close..." she sighed, uncharacteristically deeply, but refocused. "Did you or the other officers find any evidence of her door being tampered with like he said?" 

"Maybe she was waiting to see if the relationship worked out," Olivia offered quietly. "There was a little wood sliced off, could've been from a jimmying," she responded to Alex's second question without missing a beat. 

"Maybe they'll find some partial prints or something, not belonging to Mark or Emma." Alex leaned against the wall, mulling over scenarios in her mind. "I just don't know how anyone other than me or Jessica could have known where Emma was. She left her old apartment and moved to the new one rather suddenly; you wouldn't believe how many phone calls I got from her friends asking me where she was." 

"Why'd she move so quickly?" Olivia reached for her pad. 

"Variety of reasons," Alex replied. "NYU had limited her scholarship, meaning she had to pay out of pocket more than she was used to, and with school and the old apartment, she was spreading herself too thin. She also didn't like her apartment building...she said there were some creepy guys hanging around there..." Alex stopped, grimacing as her brain finally wrapped itself around an obvious conclusion. "They were stalking her. They could have followed us to the new apartment, staked out the place." 

"It's possible, but stalkers don't usually travel in groups," she explained. "The more likely explanation is that she picked up an admirer in her new building. I'll have Cassidy and Munch go over the tenant list again." Olivia spoke as if she'd suddenly assumed command of the operation. 

"Okay," Alex replied. After a moment, she shook her head in disdain. "I feel so useless," she confided, not assessing her comfort level in divulging this side of herself to Olivia. "I'm supposed to be the person who best knows my sister, and I can barely tell you why she moved out of her old apartment." 

"It's okay," the detective assured her, not looking up from her pad, where her pen rested silently. "You're doing your best." 

The two rested in silence until the interrogation room door opened and Elliot emerged, standing next to his partner, hooking a thumb back into the gray room, where Mark still sat, fiddling with a ring on his right hand. "Do we need him for anything else?" 

"Nah," Olivia said, finally meeting Alex's eyes. "Let him go, but keep a car on him, see where he goes from here." 

Elliot nodded, stopping next to Alex before going back in the room to release Mark. "Do you want to say anything to him?" 

Alex mulled it over for a minute, then shook her head. "He knows I'll kill him myself if I find out he lied to us."   
  


* * *  
  


"Nice job trying not to look down her shirt, Boy Wonder." Munch's ball-biting tone elicited an eye roll from his partner.

"Up yours," Cassidy replied, shooting a look at Alex as she sat next to Olivia's desk, still working on the paper he'd given her earlier. The blonde looked up at the young detective, her eyes questioning. Before Cassidy could answer, Munch loudly laid his feet on his desk and queried Olivia, "You grab the girl's laptop from the scene?" 

Her gaze never lifting from the manila folder in front of her, Olivia reached out her left hand and smacked Munch's feet off her desk. "Do I look like a rookie to you?" she parried. "Of course we picked up **Emma's** laptop." Olivia emphasized her name with a sharp eyebrow-raise at Munch, reminding him silently that the abductee's sister was sitting a foot and a half away. "Why?"

Before Munch could infuriate anyone else, Cassidy jumped in. "The roommate said she overheard Emma talking on the phone about a week ago, talking about an email she had sent that would, and I quote, 'Make a huge difference'. It should still be in her outbox, if we can get tech to crack the passwords." 

Alex nearly leapt out of her chair. "I know her passwords," she replied, looking down at Olivia. "I should be able to get into her accounts, no problem." 

"Okay," Olivia said noncommittally. "Slow down," she said, standing and tucking her hands in her pockets. "First, we've gotta let Cragen know that we're gonna get the computer out of evidence." 

"Can Cassidy and Munch do that?" Alex's three cups of coffee and lack of sleep were beginning to manifest itself in her evident jumpiness. "It's been almost twelve hours, Olivia. We both know the statistics of stranger abductions." 

The first thing Olivia noticed was the informality creeping into Alex's exhausted speech; she was now "Olivia" not "Detective". The brunette pinned Alex with a solemn stare. "I know," she replied, "but you're not a detective, and this isn't your case." Her tone made it perfectly clear whose case it was, and who answered to whom. "We've gotta go through channels and cover our asses." 

"And exactly how long is that going to take?" Alex asked, pausing briefly. "Enough time for this son of a bitch to strangle my sister to death? Enough time for him to dump her in the East River?" She turned to Munch and Cassidy, who continued to sit at their desks. "You know, by this point in the conversation, you two should probably have beaten us to tech yourselves, seeing as you got the information first." 

Olivia snapped quietly, "Alex, that's enough." Turning to the pair of colleagues, she said, "Can you guys go find Cragen and fill him in? Then go get the laptop and Jason from CS Tech. Please," she added. 

The look exchanged between Munch and Cassidy was obvious enough that, combined with Olivia's obvious anger, Alexandra focused on a spot on the opposite wall while the two male detectives headed toward Cragen's office and then grabbed the elevator to the downstairs labs. She turned to Olivia, and upon seeing the well-buried fury and frustration combined with a genuine will to help, Alex sighed, rubbing her temples. "I'm sorry," she amended. "I promised you I wouldn't fuck up your investigation, and here I am, queen of the fucks." 

"Nice language," Olivia said, her rage at Alex immediately settling into a sympathetic simmer of anger at injustice in general. "You're starting to sound like me." 

Alex chuckled. "Trust me, I have a vocabulary that would put most of the Navy to shame." She ran a hand through her disheveled hair, her edginess once again apparent as Olivia's phone rang, sending her sky-high. "Gotta switch to decaf," she murmured. 

Olivia didn't respond, grabbing the receiver. "Detective Benson," she answered it. 

Alex could hear the curt reply of "It's Munch. Tech's ready for the passwords", and leaned across Olivia's desk, brushing her arm against Olivia's front to grab a post-it and pen, jotting down Emma's password, handing it to the detective to read to her colleague. 

Pushing everything but work out of her mind - not an easy accomplishment - Olivia took the sheet from Alex, thanking her with a tiny smile. "Okay, first one." She read them off, one by one, and waited for a response. "Uh huh. Okay, can you ask him print it out up here? SVU6258D," Olivia gave Munch the serial number off their printer. "Thanks." Hanging up, she strode over to the printer. She was not disappointed; three sheets were spit out within seconds. Skimming it, Olivia murmured something unintelligible. "Did you know about this?" she asked, passing the sheaf to Alex. 

Alex took it and skimmed the first three lines, sinking back into "her" chair next to Olivia's desk. "Shit." The word was drawn-out and harsh, betraying a combination of guilt and fear. She nodded slightly, laying the sheets precariously on top of the tilting pile of manila folders decorating Olivia's desk. Alex looked toward the clouded glass window, squinting her eyes shut in self-directed anger. "I didn't even consider it. Shit, Alexandra." 

"Alex?" Olivia tried to get her to focus. 

Alex cleared her throat. "That is an email from Emma to our stepfather, Peter Kelleher. In it, Emma states that she and I have filed a civil suit against him, and should he continue to campaign for a judgeship in Connecticut, the contents of that civil suit will be released to the public." Her tone was even, and semi-detached, but wavered every other instant, relaying the tip of her true emotion. 

Her eyes alight at the possibility of a suspect, Olivia crossed to Alex, crouching down in front of the attorney and resting a hand on her knee. "So he had every reason to want Emma quiet?" she extrapolated. 

Alex nodded minutely, leaning slightly forward. She knew Cragen knew the story, and that Elliot would find out from Olivia, but she really had no desire to share her entire childhood with every member of the SVU. "Especially with the specified allegations in the suit," she agreed. "Peter Kelleher is a convicted child molester, but he never did any time, thanks to the political influence associated with the judge and jury in the case." 

Her eyes widening imperceptibly, Olivia nodded slowly. "Do you wanna go someplace private?" 

Alex shrugged, then shook her head. "It's all going to come out one way or another. And you've done something few have accomplished in almost twenty years - actually getting me to talk about it." 

Hiding a wry smile, Olivia encouraged her to continue. "He abused you?" she assumed. 

Alex shook her head. "Not sexually. He roughed me up once, fairly well, which allowed me to list myself as a co-petitioner on the civil suit. Emma was his choice of Cabot. He started abusing her when she was about eight, and stopped when she reached fifteen." She chuckled sardonically. "Well, 'stopped' isn't exactly the appropriate word, I guess. Emma's room was across the house from mine, and I was in my own little world so much of the time that I just didn't see any of the signs. It wasn't until Em became overly hostile to him, really acting out against him and my mother, that I figured something was wrong. She finally let it out, and I stayed in her room that night. When he came in, we confronted him. I took her out of the house the following Saturday, and hid her in my dorm at Brown until we were kicked out." 

A flicker of something crossed Olivia's eyes before she shut away any emotion and focused on being professional. "I'm sorry you two had to go through that," she said quickly. 

Alex allowed herself a small smile and covered Olivia's hand with her own. "It took me a long time and a lot of therapy, but I learned to deal with my small role in it, dealing with my guilt at not knowing for all those years. But Emma, obviously, has had a much harder time, especially without the closure of seeing her rapist put to justice. I finally convinced her to go back into therapy, and her doctor recommended confronting him as best she could. So Emma tracked down his email address and sent him that note. I don't think either of us thought he'd actually do anything to retaliate." She grimaced again. "I have his address and phone number in Bridgeport." 

"We'll need that." Olivia stared at Alex's hand on hers for a second. "Do you think he's capable of snatching Emma?" she asked unnecessarily. 

Alex shook her head. "I don't think he'd dirty his hands by being 'directly' involved. But I think he is definitely capable of hiring someone to do it for him." 

Chuckling softly despite the severity of the situation, Olivia said, "A good old-fashioned mob hit." Realizing what she'd said, she straightened and stood abruptly. "I'm sorry, that was out of line." 

Alex waved away her apology with another slight shake of her head. "Emma's not dead. I know that, and I think you're inclined to believe that, too, without evidence to the contrary. Right?" 

"Absolutely." Olivia still stuffed her hands in her pockets, trying to recover her equilibrium. She was vacillating between too emotional and too detached with this case; she couldn't control herself. 

Alex rose as well, looking around her feet for her bag. "I have his address in my planner...which I probably left in my car. Do you want me to go get it?" 

Sighing silently in relief, Olivia agreed with a nod. "Sure. I'll meet you back here later." 

Alex offered a slight smile, more proud of herself for asking before leaping than in an offer of solidarity to Olivia. She headed out the front of the building, the early afternoon sun blinding her enough that she stood at the top of the marble steps of the precinct for a good three minutes before focusing, trying to find her Explorer. Her mind raced as it hadn't been allowed to for the majority of the day, namely the terror that coursed through her when thinking about Emma. She found herself praying hard, using a faith she had forgotten was inside her. She fished her keys out of her jeans, trying to think of anything that would get her mind off the horrible scenarios running through her mind. She thought to the detective waiting inside for her, with whom Alex felt an ease long-forgotten. Olivia was now added to the less than select few who knew about Alexandra's past, and Alex was struck by the thought that it felt good to share that part of her with someone, especially someone like Olivia; strong, but understanding, emotional but professional - someone very much like Alexandra herself. There was a trust burgeoning there, and Alex decided to be comforted by it, rather than question it, as was her nature. The comfort, she mused, would serve a greater purpose, than would doubt. 

She unlocked her car, pulling out her tote, and headed back into the precinct, more determined than ever to bring her sister home.   
  


* * *  
  


Throwing the pile of coffee cups and napkins in the backseat, Alex offered a slight smile to her entering passenger. Rather than requisition another sedan, causing more of a delay and an even more impatient Alexandra, Cragen had granted permission for Alex to drive to Connecticut, with Olivia and Elliot as her passengers. As Olivia finished up on the phone with local authorities, Elliot jogged up to the car's open window, hooking a thumb towards Munch and Cassidy. "Liv, I'm heading with these two. We have a couple of sightings in different boroughs, and Cragen wants us on it now." 

"Sightings?" Alex asked, excitement and fear flitting across her eyes. 

"Not recent, and not validated," Elliot warned. "But valid enough to warrant checking it out." He moved his gaze to his partner. "You cool meeting up with PD up there?" 

"Sure, we've got Bridgeport covered; g'head." 

Elliot nodded, and Alex watched him run down the sidewalk, thankful he seemed to have warmed up to her as well, and at the very least, was one of the best when it came to looking for her sister. "CT-25, here we come." 

"Let's do it." Olivia snapped her seat belt into place, and they were off. The first few minutes passed in silence, as the detective scribbled various thoughts in her notebook. 

The silence was companionable as they exited the rush of the city, but as the highway ground beneath them, Alex found her restlessness had accompanied them on their field trip. "Do you mind if I turn on the radio?" 

"Nope, go ahead," Olivia replied succinctly. 

Alex clicked on the radio, and surfed until gentle orchestral strains filled the car. She listened to Vivaldi's 'Summer' for a few minutes, trying to think up something to engage Olivia, as it seemed her furious writing had ceased for the time being. _This is worse than trying to come up with a pick-up line_, she thought briefly, before the errant metaphor slipped out of her mind, and a shocked smile replaced it. She chalked it up to nothing more than a defense mechanism to keep even worse thoughts about the fate of her sister at bay. 

Wondering if Alex found the silence as awkward and strained as she did, Olivia searched for something to say. She settled on, "I'm not usually a fan of classical music, but this is pretty." 

Alex smiled, thankful Olivia chose a neutral topic. "I started listening after all of those studies on how Beethoven increases your brainwave activity. It kind of stuck. But if you'd rather have something else, go ahead and flip." 

Olivia reached over and turned the volume down until the music was a faint background noise. "I'd rather ask you some questions. If that's okay," she added quickly. 

"Sure," Alex replied, shifting to the center lane. 

Flipping to a clean page in her pad, Olivia began, "I know it's a long shot, but can you think of anyone who would've taken Emma for your stepfather?" 

"It's been a while since either of us has had extended contact with him, so I don't know of any of his colleagues, as they were. If we can get a subpoena of his records, though, he may have met someone through defending them. He's a defense attorney." The venom in her voice was two-fold, coming from both a prosecutor and an angry stepdaughter. 

"Good idea. Guess lawyers can be good for something," she teased gently, trying to lighten the mood a little. 

Alex chuckled. "Well, we're good at other things, too, I'm sure. I'll let you know when I come up with one." 

_Bet you're a good kisser._ Olivia forced the thought from her mind as quickly as it had appeared. She couldn't afford to let her guard down, for so many reasons - not the least of which was that Alex's sister was a victim of a vicious crime. Her mind needed to be on the job, not on the sweet scent of the woman sitting next to her, not in what high regard she held the ADA after knowing her such a short time, and certainly not how much she wanted to share something with Alex to even the score after learning about the attorney's painful past. 

Alex smiled softly as she felt Olivia's thoughtful eyes on her. She met the gaze for a moment before returning her eyes to the road and asking gently, "Is there anything else you want to know?" 

Getting back to the subject at hand, Olivia tried to regain her professionalism. "What kind of documentation of Emma's abuse did you have when you filed the lawsuit?" she asked. "Pictures? Affidavits?" 

"We really only had the police report, and the rape kit done on her, indicating prolonged abuse. The kit was inconclusive as to the length of the abuse." Alex changed lanes, and then sat back in her seat for the highway drive ahead. "The lawsuit wasn't intended to right any wrongs; there is nothing in this world that will give Emma back her childhood. It was more intentioned to call attention to the physical abuse, and to his abuse of power in getting the sentence knocked down to probation." 

Nodding slowly, Olivia understood exactly what Alex meant. "Yeah," she agreed immediately, without thinking. "You can't get those years back." 

"There are some days I want nothing more than to give them back to her," Alexandra confided softly, her lawyer veneer slipping under the tired and vulnerable sister role. "You have no idea how many nights afterward I cursed him and my mother to hell, and blamed myself for her seven years of torment." 

"You couldn't have done anything," Olivia replied, scribbling idle notes on her pad. 

"I could have tried. With me, it's all about the effort." Alex took the exit for Bridgeport, her numerous right turns reminding her she was in a much smaller setting than the city. She pulled up in front of the building, nestled on the edge of a small forest, and put the car in park. "Bridgeport Police Department," she announced, a slight smile crossing her features. "Last stop." 

She wanted to say something, **anything**, so badly. Instead, Olivia climbed out of the car with a grateful nod, tucking her notebook away. 

Alex held the door open for Olivia, following her into the sparse entryway. She leaned around the slightly taller detective and rapped against the pane of glass. The receptionist turned in her chair to face them, a smile lighting up her face. She opened the partition, and leaned out, hugging Alex awkwardly. "Alexandra!" 

"Hi, Margie," Alex replied, offering a smile. "How are you?" 

"Fine, just fine." Margie eyed Olivia, and Alex introduced them. "Margie Murray, this is Detective Olivia Benson, of the NYPD. Olivia, this is an old friend of mine, Margie." 

Margie extended her hand. "The only one Alex ever keeps in touch with," she added. "Chief Burrows will see you in a few minutes, Alex. He's finishin' up somethin', and then he'll pull your file." 

Alex smiled again, and took a seat on one of the offered chairs. She caught sight of herself in Margie's window, and sighed. It had obviously been a long night. 

Olivia took the seat beside Alex, sitting silently in deference to the local detectives eyeing her as they passed. 

Alex motioned to the pad. "Care to share the great American novel with me?" 

Cracking a wry grin, Olivia shrugged and passed the pad to her traveling companion. 

Alex looked over the small sheets, trying to make heads or tails of it. She gave up after a few minutes, handing it back to Olivia. "You're almost as bad as I am, with the shorthand and half-finished words." 

Chuckling despite their grave errand, Olivia put the notepad away. "I pity the guy who inherits my caseload when I retire." 

Alex smiled with her, and then looked to her right as the door opened. A portly man stepped through, nodding to Alex and Olivia. "ADA Cabot," he said, not unkindly. 

Alex rose, shaking his hand. "It's nice to see you again, Chief. This is Detective Benson." 

Olivia stood and extended her hand. "Chief Burrows," she greeted him formally. "I can't thank you enough for your help with this case." 

"No thanks needed, Detective. Although," Burrows said, leading them into his office, "I'm not quite sure how much help I can be. I already sent the original police reports from the assault to both of you. There hasn't been any trouble at the house since you and Emma left, Alexandra." 

"Well, this visit isn't about that night, Chief. Emma's been kidnapped, and one of the avenues being investigated is that Peter Kelleher may have been involved. We'd like one of your deputies to accompany us to the house, stave off any jurisdictional issues." 

"Wait a minute," Burrows held up his hand. "Emma was kidnapped?" 

As the conversation progressed, Olivia glanced from Alex to the police chief. Her raised eyebrow chastised the lawyer for failing to inform the local authorities of the situation before they'd arrived; that was really a mistake on Elliot's part, though. 

"Yes," Alex replied. 

"And you think your stepdaddy had something to do with this?" 

"It's possible. We just need to clear him of suspicion, and we can't really do that without your assistance." 

Burrows leaned back in his chair. "What evidence do you have that Pete's involved?" 

Alex shifted slightly in her seat. "He and Emma were in contact in the days prior to her disappearance." 

"How do you know they weren't just makin' nice after all these years?" 

Alexandra rolled her eyes openly. "You don't 'make nice' with the man that sexually abused you for seven years and got away with it." 

Burrows shook his head. "More of this conspiracy nonsense, Alexandra? He was arrested - convicted, even." 

"Did he serve time?" Alex interjected. "Was his record not expunged?" 

Burrows rose, indicating the door. "I won't have you speaking to me that way, young lady. I'm sorry you came all this way for nothing." 

A picture flashed through Olivia's mind of the composed blonde attorney, whose barely concealed rage was about to boil over, lunging across the desk and beating the cop with the nearby stapler. To stave off any bloodshed, she placed a restraining hand on Alex's arm and slipped on her game face. "Chief," she said, feigning a companionship that clearly didn't exist, "one cop to another: the possibility exists that Kelleher had somethin' to do with Emma's disappearance. All I'm asking is a chance to check out his house and the neighborhood, without stepping on any local toes."  Steeling herself, Olivia forced down the adrenaline that was surging through her veins. "I'd really appreciate the help." 

Burrows sat down again, moving his gaze from Alexandra's angry facade, and Olivia's complimentary one. "I don't know, Detective. It seems like an awfully long shot. I don't know what this one has told you, but Peter Kelleher is one of the most upstanding citizens in the entire state of Connecticut. I've known him for ages. I just don't think he'd mess with Emma - or Alexandra, for that matter - again." 

"I hear ya," Olivia nodded, loosening her grip on Alex imperceptibly. "But maybe I could take a look around, just to be sure? Then I can go back to New York with a clear conscience." 

Burrows hesitated, but finally nodded. "All right. I'll have one of my deputies go out with you. But if he slams the door in your face, no officer of mine is going to force entry. We clear?" 

Alex nodded, covering Olivia's hand briefly. "Thank you," she replied quietly. "I promise I won't cause you any more trouble." 

Burrows laughed. "You're a Cabot. Of course you will." He picked up the phone, and motioned to the door. "You two can wait outside for Deputy Hayes. He'll meet you down here in five." 

"Thanks." Olivia ushered Alex out of the stationhouse and into the street. "You weren't kidding about the good ol' boys network here," she murmured sympathetically, once they were out of Burrows' earshot. 

Alex chuckled. "Part of me wants to run back in there and make sure he's not telling Hayes to slip a note to Kelleher or something." She sighed loudly, leaning against the stucco. "As much as I want to find Emma, there's a part of me that does **not** want to go back to that house." 

"Good, because you're not going." Olivia reached into her pocket, digging out a piece of nicotine gum. 

Alex's head whipped around. "Excuse me?" 

"You're not going in. You can stay in the car, **if** you promise not to pull an 'NYPD Blue' and jump out at the worst possible moment. Otherwise, you're staying here." 

"What?" Alex's mouth dropped open, aghast. "You mean I drove all the way up here to stay in the car? What about Kelleher?" 

"**He's **why you're not going," Olivia explained succinctly, chewing frantically on her gum. "I need to convince Kelleher he's not a suspect, so he'll let me check out the house. If I see anything, we'll get a warrant and come back; then you can come." 

Hating that Olivia's logic made sense, Alex cracked her neck. "We're going to need a warrant to dump the phones and his financials." She paused, watching Olivia. "I hope to God you find something." 

The door behind them opened, and a young man, in his late twenties or early thirties, exited the building. "Detective? ADA Cabot?" 

Alex nodded. "Hayes?" 

The officer nodded at her. "Yes, ma'am." 

Alex looked at Olivia. "Shall we?" 

Nodding, Olivia gestured toward the deputy's car. "We'll follow you." They climbed into their respective vehicles and headed out. It was a short ride to Peter Kelleher's mansion-style home on the outskirts of the city proper. As Alex pulled the car silently up the seemingly interminable drive, Olivia offered only, "We'll find her." The car stopped and she hopped out, turning back and leaning her arm on the top edge of the car door. Leaning down, the detective caught Alex's eyes. "Stay here," she reminded the attorney. "No matter what you see or hear." 

Alex looked up into the stern, brown eyes, and wondered just how Olivia knew of her plans to sneak up to the living room window and peek through, even though they had only been introduced that day. "All right. But nail him hard, Olivia." 

Biting back a sardonic reply, Olivia nodded and straightened, finding Deputy Hayes watching her. "Let's go." The pair strode up to the door and Olivia rang the bell. 

The door opened, and a strikingly blonde woman appeared, decked out in a black Donna Karan suit and pearls. "May I help you?" 

"Mrs. Kelleher?" Olivia asked automatically, as Hayes' profile blurred in her peripheral vision. 

"Yes," the woman drawled. 

"Ma'am, I'm Deputy Hayes, from the police department. This is Detective Benson, from the New York City Police Department. We were wondering if your husband was home." 

Mrs. Kelleher started slightly, but covered it well. "Well, yes. He's visiting with his daughter, in his study. What's this concerning?" 

"I'd prefer to speak to you and Mr. Kelleher at the same time," Olivia cut the deputy off before he could reveal their purpose. "May we come in?" 

"Of course." Mrs. Kelleher stepped aside, ushering the pair inside. "I'll go get my husband. Please, make yourself at home." She gestured to the living room, pausing to straighten some photos on the table as she walked down the hallway to her husband's study. 

Standing in the foyer, Olivia turned to Deputy Hayes. "I appreciate that this is your jurisdiction, but Emma Cabot disappeared from **my** precinct's grounds, so this is my case. All due respect, let me handle this." 

The comparatively green officer's eyebrows raised, but he conceded as the Kellehers emerged from the back of the house. 

Peter Kelleher, a six foot man, with brown hair and eyes, sauntered down the hall with an election-year smile on his face. "I'm Peter Kelleher. Victoria tells me you're from the police department? How is good old Billy Burrows these days?" 

"Fine, sir," Hayes replied, before remembering Olivia's warning and shutting up. 

Olivia jumped right in. "Mr. Kelleher," she began, "I'm here about your stepdaughter, Emma.  I'm investigating her disappearance.  When was the last time you spoke to her?"

Peter shrugged. "She called me about a week ago, ranting and raving about something. I told her I was busy, and disconnected the call. I haven't heard from her since." 

Notebook quickly in hand, Olivia scribbled notes. "What was she 'ranting and raving' about?" she asked, echoing Peter Kelleher's words. Her eyes never left his face, judging each word within the context of his body language. 

Kelleher shrugged. "Something about how 'the truth was going to come out', and that I was 'finally going to pay'. She's done this many times, Detective; so often that I had to file a restraining order against her." 

Victoria reentered the conversation by saying, "I love my children very much, Detective. But Emma is an unstable soul, prone to flights of fancy. Are you sure she didn't just run off and neglect to tell anyone?" 

Fighting a wave of angry nausea, Olivia simply nodded, turning to Mrs. Kelleher. "Can you give me some examples of Emma's 'flighty' tendencies?" 

Victoria clucked her tongue. "Well, she was one of those children who lived in the clouds. One day, she was a fairy princess, and the next, she would be clopping around in gardener's galoshes. She changed her major I don't even know how many times prior to graduation. Perhaps I noticed more, given how focused and driven Alexandra always was. But Emma was more focused on the joie de vivre rather than the actual path." 

Mentally rolling her eyes at how Mrs. Kelleher slipped obscure French phrases into the conversation, Olivia continued her questioning. "According to her sister, Emma wouldn't have taken off without telling **someone**. Did she give you any indication she'd be taking a vacation?" 

"I don't think either of us had spoken to her since the day she called here," Mr. Kelleher replied, looking to his wife's confirming nod. "You'd have to ask Alexandra about that." 

"I will." Olivia continued taking notes, glancing up at the Kellehers after a moment. "We expect to hear in the next couple of hours if this is a ransom-driven crime. Do you know anyone who bears a grudge against you, and might do something like this for money?" 

"To be honest with you, Detective, our contact with Emma has been limited since the day she and her sister walked out of here. I highly doubt anyone would do this to get at my husband and me." Victoria offered a sympathetic look. 

"I always saw Emma as one of my own flesh and blood," Peter said, putting an arm around his wife. "If there's anything else we can do to assist you in your investigation, please don't hesitate to ask." 

Hearing the finality in his voice, Olivia flipped her notebook closed. This interview was over. For anything further, she'd have to take a more stern approach - probably coming armed with a search warrant. "Thank you, Mr. Kelleher. I'll be in touch." Turning, she beckoned Deputy Hayes to follow her out of the house. Olivia turned back as they reached the front door. "Oh," she said, as if it had just occurred to her, "what kind of terms are you on with your other stepdaughters, Mr. Kelleher?" 

"Caroline and I speak regularly; I'm helping her start a candidacy run in Georgia. Alexandra and I never saw eye to eye; she's definitely got her mother's stubborn streak. My relationship with my other children - from a previous marriage - is marvelous, though." 

Taking a glance at Victoria Kelleher, Olivia nearly laughed aloud at her husband's suggestion. The resemblance between Alexandra Cabot and her mother ended with their matching tawny hair and porcelain skin. "Of course. Thank you again." She stepped out into the bright afternoon sun. 

Seeing the front door open, Alex, who had spent the time rearranging her change, and reading her car manual, sat up suddenly, her heart beginning to race. She couldn't read Olivia's face as the detective made her way to the car, and refrained from saying anything as the passenger door opened. 

Answering Alex before she could ask, Olivia said cryptically, "I knew he was a lying fuck when he said you were just like your mother." 

Alex couldn't refrain from laughing at the comment. "God, if anyone ever told me sincerely that I was just like Victoria Kelleher, I would commit myself." 

Meeting Alex's eyes, Olivia grinned back, but quickly sobered. "I'm not sure how much he had to do with this, Alex, but I know he's dirty somehow." 

Alex nodded. "Did he say anything we can catch him in?" 

"We can start with a call Emma allegedly made to her mother and stepfather a week ago." 

Alex shook her head immediately. "It was the other way around. Emma emailed him, like I told you, and then he called her. That was the conversation that Jess overheard." She reached backwards over the center console, reaching for her briefcase. "We have her phone records here." She skimmed through the monthly statement and shook her head. "She hasn't called this house in three years, let alone a week ago." 

"It could've been from a payphone," Olivia played devil's advocate. "Or her cell. Think we can get a warrant to have his phones dumped now?" 

"We have her cell records too..." Alex trailed off as she fished through the stack of papers. "Nothing there. As for the payphone, I can tell you out of experience that the likelihood of my sister having enough change for a call to Connecticut is none."  Alex slipped the records back into the file folder and laid it on her lap, looking at Olivia. "We have enough to get a warrant and dump the phones. When we catch him in the lie, I'll put that to probable cause and check his financials." She fished through her purse again and pulled out her cell phone and day planner, flipping to the names in the back. "When I took Emma to Brown, we had to emancipate her from my parents. Luckily, the judge and I have stayed on good terms; hopefully she'll be able to help us out." 

Alex waited until she was patched through to Judge Warner's voicemail and left a message, requesting Her Honor phone back as soon as possible. She disconnected and looked at Olivia. "There used to be a great deli in town, it might still be here.  You want to grab something while we wait?" 

"We'd better," Olivia mock-griped. "Seems like we'll be stuck here in the 'burbs for a while." 

Alex chuckled, returning her folders to her attaché. "Come on, Olivia, don't you love the smell of cows?" As she pulled the Explorer out of the semi-circle driveway, neither woman saw the young blonde watching them from an upstairs window. 

Alexandra pulled into an open spot in front of Maryanne's Luncheonette and put the car into park. She put a hand on her stomach as it growled loudly. "Thirty cups of coffee and no food. Not a good combination." 

Cracking a wry smile, Olivia stepped around the car to meet Alex as they headed into the little restaurant. "Guess it's only us cops that can live off a caffeine IV." 

"Guess so." Alex smiled, and at the sign beckoning them to seat themselves, chose one of the red-plastic lined booths. She leaned over and grabbed the two menus propped up behind the ketchup bottle, and handed one to Olivia. 

Once the waitress had taken their order and left, Olivia began to tell Alex the details of what had transpired in the Kelleher's foyer. "I'm amazed your sister was able to get here so quickly," she mused idly, toying with a salt shaker. "Doesn't she have kids?" 

"My sister?" Alex looked confused. "Caroline's still in Atlanta, as far as I know." 

Wary, Olivia set the salt shaker down with a sharp bang. "When we arrived, your mom said he was in the den visiting with his daughter." 

"There's no way." Alex pulled out her cell phone and dialed her sister's campaign headquarters. "Hi, this is Alexandra Cabot, Caroline's sister. I need to speak with her, please...she's not? Where is she?" Alex started to tap the prongs of her fork on the Formica impatiently. "She's giving a speech at the Hilton right now?" She raised her eyebrows at Olivia. "Yeah, can you have her call me on my cell phone when she gets back? Thank you." She hung up, sending the phone scattering towards the other end of the table. "She's definitely in Atlanta." 

Catching the phone deftly, Olivia handed it back to Alex, a stern set to her mouth. Pulling out her cell, she pressed speed-dial. "Cassidy, it's Benson. I need you to check on something for me. Uh huh, Peter Kelleher. Prior marriages, all known children, the works. Okay, thanks." Olivia hung up, smiling grimly as she tucked the phone into her back pocket. "By the time we're done eating, Cassidy should be able to tell us if Kelleher's visitor is, indeed, his kid." 

Alex leaned against the back of the booth, shaking her head. "Even after all these years, that guy still pisses me off beyond words." 

Not sure what to say, Olivia settled for, "I'm sorry," as their lunches were delivered. 

Alex shrugged, beginning to pick apart her egg salad sandwich. "It's like you said earlier, there's nothing that will change what happened. I can still be angry, though," she finished, a wry grin on her face. "You're sure my mother said he was visiting with his daughter?" 

"Positive." 

Alex took a sip of her water, shaking her head. "Other than Caroline, Emma and me, he doesn't have any daughters. He has two sons from his first marriage...although, knowing him, he probably has dozens more illegitimate kids running around." 

Olivia nodded, absorbing the information and processing the events of the morning. Her mind was racing with all the information she'd need from SVU headquarters and how to get it. They needed names and telephone numbers of anyone who ever worked for, with or against Peter Kelleher, not to mention associates of his wife. Olivia nearly sighed aloud at the magnitude of their task. 

Alex leaned back against the plastic, continuing her earlier train of thought. "So, in other words, there's no way that kid is his daughter." She rubbed the bridge of her nose, and then regarded Olivia. "At least that narrows our search a bit." In tandem with her comment, her own cell phone rang, and she hurriedly answered it. "Hello? Oh, yes, Your Honor, how are you?" Alex looked at Olivia and held up crossed fingers. She quickly explained the situation, and the need for a search warrant of her parents' home and financial records. As the Judge mulled the evidence, Alex interjected softly, saying foreign words. "Leila...I need your help." There was more silence, and Alexandra thought her heart might just beat out of her chest in the interim. 

Finally, the judge sighed, and Alex grinned at Olivia. "Alex, I'll fax you a warrant for the house, but only to look; no touching. If you see something in the house or on the phone dump, come back and talk to me. Deal?" 

"Deal," Alex replied. "Thanks, Leila." She disconnected and laid her fork on her plate. "We have a sight-only warrant for the house, but if we find something we like, she'll grant us a full warrant." Wiping her mouth one final time, Alex cocked her head towards her parked car outside. "Shall we, Detective?" 

Feeling her heart lifting, even slightly, for the first time in nearly twelve hours, Olivia stood and followed Alex out. 

Twenty minutes later, a faxed copy of the search warrant snug in her grasp, Alex's adrenaline was pumping as they pulled back in front of the house. She parked the car and looked at the brown-haired woman next to her. "Am I babysitting the car again?" 

"No, I need you this time." Olivia smiled tensely as they climbed out of the car and headed up the driveway. "Ready?" 

Alex couldn't contain a chuckle as she rang the doorbell. "I've been waiting for this moment for a long time." Her grin widened as her mother's shocked face entered her field of vision. "Hello, Mother," Alex said sweetly, handing her a copy of the search warrant. "I'm home." 

Olivia's carriage was a little more professional. "Mrs. Kelleher, we have a search warrant that allows us entry into every room of your home. We'd like to make this as easy as possible on everyone," she said, keeping her speech firmly in the plural. Alex was a part of the team now. "So if you'll just have a seat, we'll get this over with as quickly as we can." 

Alex stepped inside, past her shocked mother. For her part, Victoria sputtered for a moment, and finally called after her daughter. "Are you bent on destroying us what's left of this family, Alexandra?" 

Saying nothing, Alex followed Olivia further down the hall. "We definitely need to check his office and his bedroom. Those would be the two main places we'd find something." 

Startling herself, Olivia grabbed Alex's hand. "Just don't touch anything that's not in plain sight," she warned. "We don't want to screw ourselves out of a full warrant." 

Alex nodded. "You got it," she replied, squeezing Olivia's hand briefly before using it to point to the last door on their left. "That's his office." 

"You check in there," Olivia suggested, "and I'll take a peek around his bedroom." 

"'Kay," Alex replied, opening the office door. Peter's office was pristine, with everything in its place. It wasn't going to be easy to find anything he'd left out in the open. She stepped behind the cherry desk and started looking through the few papers dotting its surface. "Expert names and phone numbers, list of potential clients..." she read, sighing as nothing yielded information on her sister. She rifled through Kelleher's inbox tray, knowing since the papers were not in folders, they were subject to the warrant. She sifted through them, and at the bottom, found a post-it note listing bank addresses in Manhattan. "Gotcha," she murmured, moving to examine his bookshelves. 

Striding off down the hall, Olivia approached the bedroom slowly. Her hand froze on the knob as a familiar muffled scream pried through the heavy oak and assaulted her ears. For the first time that day, Olivia wished Elliot were there for backup. 

"Police, freeze!" she bellowed, turning the doorknob and darting into the room. Her .357 trained on the back of Kelleher's head, Olivia shouted, "Get away from her, now! Move it. I said, **move**." Grabbing his collar, Olivia damned regulations and risked a lawsuit, jerking the esteemed law professor off the shivering body of the barely-pubescent girl trapped against his closet door. 

"Down," Olivia barked, giving Kelleher a shove. _Fuckin__' pedophiles,_ was her only thought. 

Alex heard the thud from down the hall, and followed the connecting hallway to the bedroom. "Olivia? You all right?" She approached the doorway and saw Olivia, standing tall, gun trained. Alex peered around the door, saw the scene and groaned. "You never learn, Peter. You never learn." 

As Olivia slid her ever-present handcuffs like silver bracelets onto Kelleher's wrists, she glanced at Alex, sharing a grim smile with the prosecutor. "Hardly ever catch 'em in the act," she commented, pulling the other woman's stepfather to his feet. "Come on. Let's re-introduce you to Fairfield County lockup." Before he could retort, Olivia shoved him toward the door. 

Alex stepped further inside the room, placing a hand on the young girl's nude shoulder. "It's going to be okay," she soothed softly. 

For the first time, the tiny blonde girl cowering against the wall felt eyes on her. She looked up, tears clouding her green eyes. The slender pre-teen was barely able to hold her head up high enough to meet Alex's gaze. "I'm sorry," she murmured. "I didn't mean to...he just...Momma's gonna hate me forever!" she burst out. 

Alex knelt down in front of the girl, grabbing the throw blanket from the edge of the bed and wrapping it around her tiny body gingerly. "Listen to me: this is **not** your fault. He is a sick, sick man." 

"But...but ..." The girl couldn't get her words out through intermittent sobbing. 

"Oh, my God." A voice behind her swallowed Alex's reply to the shaking soul in front of her. 

Alex turned and pointed back to the hallway. "Get out of here." 

Victoria remained in her doorway, her manicured hand covering her mouth, shocked tears forming in her blue eyes. Alex wrapped the girl in the blanket more tightly before rising and pushing her mother back out into the hallway, closing the bedroom door. "Victoria, you need to leave here before you're arrested for interfering with a police investigation." 

Victoria's gaze remained stone cold for a few minutes, causing Alexandra's eyebrows to furrow. "Mom?" she said. "**Mom**?" 

"I never really thought he was capable," Victoria replied hoarsely.

"What are you talking about?" Alexandra placed her hands on her mother's shoulders, holding her at arm's length. "Victoria," she implored, "what the hell are you talking about?"

Realizing that Alex was rightly confused, Victoria blinked rapidly and sighed heavily.  "That's Kirsten," Victoria replied, by way of explanation. "That's Caroline's daughter."

THE END


	2. Liar

"How do I know you're police?"

Munch rolled his eyes. "See the badge?" He held it up to the peephole again, muttering to Elliot, "If just one of those damn 'sightings' had been real, we wouldn't be here talkin' to this nut job again." 

"I have pepper spray," Mrs. Samuelson warned, as she unlocked her door. From her barely five-foot perch, she looked up at Munch and Stabler. "Why are you back here again?" 

This time, Munch only pursed his lips, rather than groaning audibly. "Ma'am, we just need to ask you some more questions about Emma Cabot." 

"She's still missing?" Mrs. Samuelson asked rhetorically, lowering herself to the couch. "She was a nice girl. Very nice."

Stabler chose a chair across from the older woman and nodded solemnly. "Mrs. Samuelson, do you remember the last time you spoke to Emma?" 

"The day she left, I suppose," the woman replied, stroking the tabby cat sitting in her lap. "She had gotten some of my mail again, and dropped it off. Then she went back to her apartment, to visit her brother."

"What time was that?" Stabler asked, taking notes. 

"Well, her brother arrived about seven o'clock, I think. Emma came home about eight-thirty. I went to bed shortly after, and only got up when I heard the ruckus in the hallway. That's when I called you - when I heard her screaming." 

Munch nodded, figuring the old woman's poor eyesight led to her misidentification of Mark Miller as Emma's brother. 

Stabler glanced at Munch, concurring with the unspoken thought. "Miller?" he murmured aloud. 

Munch nodded. "Mrs. Samuelson, do you remember anything else about that night?" 

The old woman shook her head. "I've told you everything I know, dear. But if you want me to repeat it for you again, I'd be happy to." 

"No, that's okay." Stabler stood and handed her a business card. "If you think of anything else, please give us a call." 

Mrs. Samuelson nodded. "I certainly will." As she moved to rise from the couch, Munch shook his head. "We can let ourselves out, ma'am." 

They headed to the door, and the woman called after them. "I'll be praying for her." 

Munch offered a smile and shut the door behind him. They walked down the hall towards the elevator. As he punched the button, Munch asked, "How'd they get her out of here, with the doorman downstairs?" 

Glancing around, Stabler spied the door leading to the stairwell. "Took the stairs to the parking garage?" he surmised. 

"Escape route of champions," Munch agreed, pushing the door open. When the stairs ended, the small hallway led to the back of the building, rather than to the underground garage. Munch stopped and sighed. "So much for that idea." 

Stabler peered around the door to the alleyway backing the sprawling apartment building. "There's enough room for a car back here, easy." 

Munch stepped up next to him and looked around the enclave. "Would it be too much to ask to find a security camera?" 

"Probably." As Munch held the door, Stabler stepped out into the alley, craning his neck to see in every direction. "We have a winner!" he declared, stepping back into the stairwell. "Let's go next door and have a little chat with the proprietor." 

They stepped through the foyer of Emma's apartment building and a hundred yards later, the two entered the tiny bookstore. The bored-looking girl at the cash register looked up, popping her gum. "Can I help you?" 

Munch again flashed his badge. "We need to talk to whoever owns this fine establishment." 

The girl shrugged. "Ma!" she called over her shoulder. 

A forty-ish woman stuck her head out of a back office. "Can I help you?" 

"Detectives Munch and Stabler, NYPD. Is that your security camera around back?" 

The woman nodded. "Sure is." 

"Ma'am, we're going to need to take a look at some of your security tapes; in particular, we need the ones from the night before last." Stabler kept his voice even and neutral. 

"Sure," the woman replied easily. "Cheryl, go in the back and get 'em." 

"Mom..." 

"Cheryl," her mother warned. "March." 

The teenager went back where her mother had come from, and the older woman smiled at the detectives. "Do I get to know what this is about?" 

"We think your tapes may shed some valuable light on an investigation," Munch replied. 

Cheryl returned with the tapes, handing them to Elliot. Her mother smiled again, placing a business card on top of the cassettes. "If you need anything else, we'd be more than happy to help."   
  


* * *  
  


Munch slung his jacket over the back of his chair, grabbing his coffee cup and refilling it. Taking a scalding swig, his mouth contorted and he regarded the ceramic. "Tastes like shit," he reported no one in particular. He waited until Elliot got off the phone with his ball 'n chain, and motioned with his head towards the incident room. "Movies of the week are ready for your viewing pleasure." 

"All right." Elliot grabbed his own mug full of fresh coffee and followed Munch into the little glassed-in cage. He proceeded to fast-forward through eight hours of normal foot traffic to midnight, which was the earliest they'd estimated Emma could've been snatched. 

Munch leaned back in his chair, wrinkling his nose. "Ten bucks we see five whizzers up against that wall." They watched a few cars pass through the alley between the buildings, but it wasn't until a dark van pulled through and stopped in the alley that Munch perked up. "What time is it on the tape?" 

Elliot peered at the tiny green numbers. "One thirty-six." 

"Does that fit your timeframe?" Munch leaned forward as well, trying to make out the license plate. 

Elliot crouched down next to the television. "Perfectly. Is that an 'H'?" he asked, squinting through the gloom at the tiny van, captured in time on the grainy videotape. 

"Definitely New York plates," Munch said. "Looks like H, and then maybe a '3' or an '8'. Make and model?" 

"I definitely see the word 'Dodge'. That look like a Caravan to you? Wait, I bet Narc'll know." He grabbed the extension and dialed Narcotics. "Hey, Diana, we need a car IDed. Can you come up for a sec? Thanks." 

"How do you get them to jump like that?" Munch wondered. "Can we get a visual on the driver or Emma?" 

"I pay well," Elliot joked. "Sure, I don't see why not." Picking up the receiver again, Elliot quickly had a team of techs standing by. "As soon as she IDs the car for us, I'll send the tape to Tech and they can enhance it for you. I've gotta call Olivia and check on the Connecticut angle." 

"The other ball and chain," Munch replied. "I'll see what my old eyes can do first, let you know if they find anything." 

Elliot stood, eyeing Munch. "Oh, stuff it," he said offhandedly. "She's the best partner I've ever had." With that, he disappeared, passing Diana in the hall. "Hey, Munch's in there," he told the detective. "See if you can verify the model and then pass the tape along to Tech." 

"Got it." She disappeared with a mock-salute. 

Elliot sank down at his desk and reached for the phone. 

Olivia answered breathlessly on the fourth ring. "Benson." 

"Hey. How's Connecticut?" 

"Fairly exciting," Olivia bantered dryly. "You missed a real bust." 

"Yeah?" Elliot leaned back in the chair. "Did the ADA give good back-up?" 

Chuckling softly, Olivia leaned against the side of Alex's SUV. "Yeah, she's handy with a baseball bat," she teased. "We busted the stepdad mid-coitis with a preteen," Olivia informed him, a hint of distaste in her voice. 

"Oh, Jesus," Elliot replied. "Anything to link him to the abduction?" 

Olivia shook her head, tipping her head back to stare up into the bright blue sky. "Nothing that I know of yet. But we're sure gonna get a full warrant outta this. How 'bout you, any luck with the canvassing?" 

"Munch and I talked to the neighbors again, nothing new there. But the building next door has a security camera around the back, and we're reviewing the tapes of the night of Emma's abduction. There's a van that's interesting us." 

"Yeah?" Olivia's ears perked up. "We have to find something soon," she confided in Elliot, though he already knew. "The 48-hour deadline is comin' fast." 

Elliot nodded. "I know, Liv. But everyone's workin' this one. And with you, me, and the wunderkind ADA, my gut feeling's that we're gonna break it open soon." 

"God, I hope so." Olivia stared at the pedophile handcuffed in the backseat of the car. 

Elliot nodded to Munch as he emerged from the room with Diana. "Keep in touch, Liv. I'm gonna go run and see what tech found for us." He turned toward the other detective.  "Any luck?" he asked Munch.

"She got us a partial, H3R K something. It's a black Dodge Caravan, between '98 and '01. She started talking about how the bumpers were different or something; I don't know. She's taking the video; should get back to us later this afternoon." Munch sat on the edge of the desk. "We'll start running the partials." 

"Fantastic." Elliot quickly told him about Kelleher's arrest, finishing with, "So they're gonna go back and search thoroughly after he's booked." 

Munch shook his head. "This job never gets easier."   
  


* * *  
  


"Roger." Olivia hung up with Elliot and glanced back at the house, wondering where Alex was.

Alex emerged from the house after securing her niece with the summoned trauma team. She walked heavily to the car and leaned against it, a few inches from Olivia, studiously keeping her gaze away from her stepfather. 

"Okay, we've gotta get him downtown," Olivia began the litany of tasks facing them, her gaze on Kelleher. "And get him booked. Once that's done, we can go back and search the—" She finally saw Alex out of the corner of her eye and broke off. "What's wrong?" 

Alex cleared her throat, stuffing her hands in her pockets. "Son of a bitch was raping my niece when you found him." 

Olivia's face paled, stricken to an ashen hue. "Alex..." She rested her hand on the ADA's shoulder. Taking a deep breath, Olivia shook her head; the guilt clouded over her, swirling around any coherent thoughts. "I should've known." 

Alex drew her mouth in a thin line. "It's not a bad thing that I have this overwhelming desire to knock his teeth down his throat, is it?" 

Olivia stifled a laugh and shook her head. "No," she said, her hand still resting on Alex's shoulder. "It's perfectly normal. Just don't do it, or I'll have to book you, too." 

Alexandra offered a slight smile. "Half of me is arguing that it'd be worth it." She patted Olivia's hand and stepped towards the front of the car. "The ambulance is going to take her to the hospital. Caroline's been notified; she's on her way up. I've got a call in to Leila for a wider search warrant, and she's going to messenger it over to the jail. We can come back with local PD to exercise it." 

"Alex..." Olivia began. "Maybe you oughta...step away?" 

Alex turned back, putting her hands on her hips and shaking her head slightly. "I can't, Olivia. Not from Emma. I know there is evidence in that house tying him to her disappearance, and I'm gonna find it, with or without you." 

"I'm just saying maybe you need to take a break. This is a lot to deal with, especially when you're not used to it," Olivia bargained, a plaintive note to her usually strong voice. 

"And what would you have me do, Olivia? Sit on my hands? Go back to Westchester?" She took a step forward, towards the detective. "I promised you at the beginning of this that I wouldn't screw with your investigation. If you honestly think I'm doing that, then I'll step away." Alex risked a look at her stepfather, still sitting in the back of the vehicle. "But I can do this, Olivia. I have to." 

"Okay, all right." Olivia reached out, gently rubbing Alex's arms for a split second. "I hear you. If it were my sister, I'd want to be involved, too." 

"Thank you," Alex replied, offering a gentle smile. She took a deep breath before continuing. "We get him to lock-up, and then come back here for the execution of the warrant, right?" 

"Yeah, that's the plan."   
  


* * *  
  


"You guys so owe me dinner for this," Diana interrupted Munch and Elliot scanning DMV registrations an hour after she had run downstairs. 

"Why? What'd you find?" Munch eagerly turned away from the console, removing his glasses and rubbing his eyes. 

Diana opened a file folder and showed them a series of grainy photos. "We blew up your tape and enhanced it as best we could. We're still working on spiffing it up, but we have a clear shot of the driver here. More importantly, see this sticker on the lower left-hand bumper?" She didn't wait for either detective to answer before moving to another photo, which was a larger print of the previous one. "It's a rental car sticker. Lariat, by the looks of it." 

"How sure are you?" Munch asked. He was sick of wild goose chases. 

"95%. Like I said, we're still cleaning it up, but it's better than nothing." 

"Definitely." Elliot took the pictures with a grateful smile. "Thanks, Di. I'll bring you a burger tomorrow." 

Diana chuckled. "Good luck." 

Munch returned to the computer, pulling up locations for Lariat Rental Cars. "It's a small company," he informed Elliot. "A lot at the airport, and one on West 64th." 

"Which one do you want?" Elliot asked as he stood. 

Munch grabbed his coat. "I'll go to LaGuardia. Maybe I'll find a couple of nice Swedish stewardesses."

"Yeah, you haven't been slapped in a few days."   
  


* * *  
  


Elliot used his considerable charm, flashing a long-forgotten smile with his badge, and quickly had the clerk in the palm of his hand. Explaining what he needed, Elliot peered at the clerk's nametag as he said, "Can you help me out here, Jessica?" 

Beaming at the detective, Jessica nodded, starting a search on the computer. She frowned as she perused the screen in front of her. "You said it's a black Dodge Caravan?" 

"That's right. Somewhere between a '98 and 2001," Elliot repeated, frustrated with Jessica's pace, but grateful for her help. 

Her tongue peeking out between her lips in concentration, Jessica's eyes flicked over each line on the log. "Here's one! Two, actually. We rented both our black Caravans, one on Friday and one on Saturday." 

_Either one could be him,_ Elliot thought. "I'll need the name, address and any other information you have on each renter." 

"Okay," Jessica chirruped, pressing 'Print'. 

She handed Elliot the pages with a 'thank-you-for-choosing-Lariat' smile. "Anything else I can do for you, Detective Stabler?" Jessica asked with a syrupy tone, ignoring the line of customers tapping their feet impatiently. 

"If there is, I'll give you a call. Thanks again." Elliot took off, nearly at a run. Suddenly, he remembered why he'd gotten married so young. 

Munch exited the LaGuardia location with a sigh. He dialed Elliot's cell, and when the answer of "Stabler" entered his ear, Munch replied, "Nothing but bullshit this end. How'd you make out?" 

"Two hits. Jeremy Rogers of Brooklyn and Huey Chen of Queens." 

Munch climbed back into his own sedan. "All right. Give me Mr. Chen's address. Since I'm out this way, I'll pay him a visit. See if he stopped by Greenwich Village over the weekend. I'll meet you back 'home' later." 

Elliot rattled off the street address, then set out for Brooklyn.   
  


* * *  
  


Olivia waited impatiently in the hallway. The sinking in her gut reminded her that she knew how the bail hearing would go. Bridgeport was a tiny town, and Peter Kelleher was a 'fine, upstanding citizen', according to the chief of police. They'd release him on some ridiculously small bail, if not on his own recognizance, freeing a pedophile to prey on the children of their town once more. And Emma was still missing. 

Inside the courtroom, Alex was fuming. Her white knuckles sat in her lap, and her leg bounced continuously, an old habit from childhood restlessness. She stared at the back of Kelleher's head as he stood charmingly behind the defendant's table. 

"Bail, Mr. Donovan?" 

"People request $3 million, cash, Your Honor." 

The judge started slightly. "Excuse me, Mr. Donovan?" 

"The defendant maliciously raped his twelve-year-old granddaughter, Your Honor. Two officers of the law caught him in the act. It is the people's opinion that he is a danger to the community, and a flight risk." 

"Mr. Donovan, while I appreciate the heinous nature of the crime, you have never argued for bail in that amount for any crime. What's the fishing expedition?" 

Donovan hesitated, looking back slightly at Alex. "The People are currently investigating the defendant for other crimes, Your Honor." 

Judge Mitchell shook her head. "Until he's charged with other crimes, Mr. Donovan, I'm only holding him on the rape and assault charges. Bail is set..." 

Alex leapt out of her seat. "I'm sorry, Your Honor, but I must object." 

The judge leaned forward. "Who are you?" 

"Assistant District Attorney Alexandra Cabot, representing the people of Westchester County, New York, Your Honor." 

"What business do you have in my courtroom, Miss Cabot?" 

Alex walked up to the bar, standing near Donovan. "Your Honor, the victim in this case is my niece. More importantly, however, Mr. Kelleher is currently the prime suspect in my sister's abduction. The people of New York are in agreement with Mr. Donovan in believing that Mr. Kelleher is a flight risk. Should he run, we may never find my sister." 

"Miss Cabot, I appreciate the severity of your situation. Unfortunately, as you know, the law is clear in this. To punish Mr. Kelleher before he is charged with involvement in your sister's case would be tantamount to double jeopardy. Not to mention the fact that you have no grounds to object in this case. Mr. Donovan represents the people here, not you." 

Alex opened her mouth to protest, case law springing to mind, but was cut off by Judge Mitchell. "Miss Cabot, I've allowed you to address my courtroom, which is highly unusual. But I've made my decision. Bail is set at $100,000 cash. Next case." 

Alex flinched as the gavel sounded, sighing. Kelleher would make the bail easily. "Damn it," she muttered, grabbing her coat. She pushed through the doors and saw Olivia, shaking her head. "One hundred thousand," she reported. "He'll be out in an hour." 

Swearing under her breath, Olivia nodded, reaching for her cell phone. "Cap'n," she said when Cragen answered, "he's out on bail. We need -" she cut off, nodding to herself. "Yessir, one car oughta do it until we find a way to get him back to the city." Hanging up, she turned back to Alex. "Cragen's going to call Bridgeport PD and have Kelleher tailed. You and I will start the search of the house, then we have to haul ass back to HQ and figure out a way to get your stepfather to Manhattan - legally." 

Alex nodded, starting towards the parking lot. "Well, let's go." 

They returned to the house with a team of technicians, heading straight back to Kelleher's home office. Taking the offered latex gloves from Olivia, Alex started pulling apart the desk, sifting through file folder after file folder of cases Peter had worked on. Finding nothing of use, she started searching the desk's surface again, cursing under her breath. "Olivia," she said, breaking the lone sound of papers shifting. "I found this earlier today, and with the whole Kirsten thing, I forgot to give it to you." She held out the post-it, explaining as Olivia handled it carefully. "It's a list of banks in the city, right?" 

"Looks to be." Cell phone in hand, Olivia called Information and got a number for the first one on the list. When she reached someone, the detective asked if there were any accounts there under the name of Peter Kelleher. Receiving a negative reply, she frowned. "None," Olivia mouthed to Alex, before she was struck by an idea. "Do me a favor? Check under 'Cabot'." She paused, listening. "Got it!" she murmured. "When was the last activity? Uh huh. Thanks." Olivia hung up and grinned at Alex. "I should make you an honorary detective. There were three accounts with your last name. Any guesses on the first name?" 

"Victoria?" 

"We have a winner." 

"Shit," Alex barked, offering an apologetic smile as the other crime scene techs looked in her direction. "He must have gotten her to set them up, and then taken over." Alex tugged another drawer open, pulling out yet more folders. "Maybe he gets the bank statements sent here; if we can match up his Connecticut financials with deposits to the New York banks, we can file for a subpoena in New York. He'll have to come to answer to the charges." 

"Maybe, if we're lucky, he's got Emma somewhere in New York. If we're **really** lucky, he'll lead us to her. It's a long shot," Olivia added as Alex met her eyes, "but it's worth a try."   
  


* * *  
  


Munch parked his car in front of the tiny house, tilting his head back against the seat. This Cabot kid's case was a real pain in the ass - and the bladder. He climbed the steps to the rickety porch, and banged loudly on the front door. "Mrs. Chen?" he asked the small Chinese woman who opened the door. 

"Yes?" 

Munch flashed his badge. "Detective Munch, NYPD. Does Huey live here?" 

"Yes. What you want with him?" 

"I need to talk to him. Is he home?" As he said it, he looked past the small woman in front of him, locking eyes with the twenty-something, who promptly ran through the kitchen and out the side door. 

Munch jumped off the porch and ran down the side of the house, grabbing Huey's leg as his jeans caught on the chain-link fence. Munch threw him down on the grass. "Sorry I have to interrupt your afternoon jog, there, Huey," Munch said sardonically, slapping some cuffs around the boy's wrists.  "Care to tell me why you were running?" 

Chen said nothing, and Munch sighed, leading him back to the front of the house and his car. He unhooked the right cuff and slung it through the outer door handle. Huey fought against it for a minute before spitting at Munch. Munch, who was by now a good ten feet from him, watched the spittle hit the ground. "Weak, boy. You need to project from the back of your throat." 

Huey continued to struggle, and finally uttered, "Man, I didn't do anything! Let me go!" 

"Sure will. As soon as you let me know why you rented that black van Saturday night." 

"My car's in the shop," Huey replied, looking past the detective. 

"Which one?" Munch pulled out his pad. 

"The one down the street," Huey said. 

"So how was your visit to the Village?" 

Huey cocked his head in arrogance. "What the hell you talkin' about?" 

"You visited an apartment building near NYU, didn't you, Huey? I mean, we've got you on tape, puts you at the scene of a crime." 

Huey stopped fidgeting and looked Munch in the eye. "What crime?" 

"District attorney's sister was kidnapped. We can put you at the scene in that van you admit to renting. Security cameras saw the whole thing, so you're screwed. District attorneys stick up for their own. No deal for you, compadre." 

"Hey, man, I didn't have nothing to do with no kidnapping. I just drove." 

"Who was it, Huey?" Munch stepped closer. "I can help you, man. You just gotta tell me where the girl is." 

"I ain't sayin' nothin' else without my lawyer." 

Munch shrugged, unhooking him from the car. Refastening the cuff around his wrists, he guided the young man into the cruiser. 

"Stabler." 

"I think I got our guy, Elliot. I'm heading back from Queens so we can chat." 

"Nice work." Elliot hung up with Munch and made about a dozen phone calls, to everyone who would possibly need to know. By the time Munch arrived, Huey Chen in tow, he had assembled a nice crowd to applaud his catch. 

Munch couldn't contain a small smile as he led the suspect into the interrogation room. He unhooked the handcuffs and emerged back into the hallway. "I called the rental car place on my way back. They matched our partial plate definitively to the one Chen rented. Crime Scene's sending a team up there to see if they can find anything. It's a long shot, though, since the car's already been thoroughly cleaned." 

Cragen emerged from his office, joining Elliot and Munch in the hallway. They watched Chen stir for a moment before Cragen interrupted. "One of you needs to run this guy's background, see if we can tie him to Emma." 

"I'll do it," Munch volunteered. "I need a pee break anyway." 

Elliot eyed his superior. "You wanna join me at the grill?" he offered. 

"Wouldn't miss it." Cragen entered the interrogation room, sitting down across from their only viable lead thus far. "Where's the girl, Huey?" 

Chen looked at him. "I told that other old dude, I didn't have nothin' to do with that." 

Cragen opened the newly delivered tech file and pointed to the top photo. "That's you driving, isn't it? Puts you at the scene, brother. Makes you look good for this." 

Chen looked from Cragen to Stabler and back again. "I didn't do anything, I swear to God." 

"So you said." Elliot rested his hands on the table, leaning toward Chen. "And I'm tempted to believe you. You seem like a nice kid," he said, shrugging his shoulders as if it didn't matter to him one-way or the other. "But you gotta understand, we've got pictures of you in the van you rented, outside the kidnapped girl's apartment at the time she disappeared. Like my friend here said," Elliot inclined his head toward Cragen, "makes you look **real** good for it. Maybe if you gave us something, anything..." He trailed off. "I don't know, maybe a name? Then maybe we could help you." Elliot straightened, crossing his arms over his chest. 

Chen started squirming again, licking his lips uncomfortably. Finally, he sighed and leaned against the back of his chair. "I need a deal." 

Cragen nodded agreeably. "We'll talk to the DA, depending on what you give us." 

Chen regarded the two men in front of him. He cleared his throat and said, "I just got a call saying I should be in that alley at twelve forty-five." 

"Call from whom?" Cragen pressed. 

"Just this dude. He said there was 50 Gs in it for me if I drove him." 

"We need a name, Huey, if you want a deal." Cragen warned. 

Huey hesitated for a minute, then shook his head. "No talking until I get my lawyer." 

Cragen groaned inwardly. "Huey, we just need to know where the girl is." 

Huey shook his head. "Nothing until my lawyer gets here." 

Cursing silently, Elliot shook his head. "Asshole," he said aloud, "there's no way you're gonna get a deal if you stall. Think about it." 

Chen shrugged. "Look, I just drove. I don't know any details or nothin'. You want anything more than that, you get my lawyer in here." 

Cragen stood up, knocking the metal chair against the hard floor loud enough to make Chen jump. "If she dies, Chen, you're going down for murder one. I promise you. I will crucify you myself." 

"Cap," Elliot muttered quietly, trying to get the man's attention without embarrassing him, "we gotta let 'im make the call." Striding out of the room, he came back with a phone, trailing a long wire. "G'head," he said, setting it down in front of Chen. "Call your lawyer." 

Chen dialed the number, watching the seething detectives guarding him like a hawk. "The cops picked me up. No, I'm in the city. 16th Precinct. Fine." He hung up the receiver and looked back at Stabler. "He has to drive in. He'll be here as soon as he can." 

"Enjoy your free time," Elliot quipped as he held the door for Cragen to exit. "It's the last you'll have for about twenty-five to life." The door slammed behind him. 

"Jackass," Cragen muttered, turning to face Stabler outside the door. "Have we heard from Benson lately?" 

"Not in the last couple hours. She and Cabot were gonna search Kelleher's Bridgeport place." Elliot sighed softly, scrubbing at his eyes. "I swear to God, Cap'n, I wanted to rip his heart out. The only **fucking** lead we have and I can't get a thing out of him."

"I know," Cragen replied succinctly, before searching the space for his other detectives. "Munch!" Cragen called across the bullpen. "What've you got?" 

"Huey Chen, aged twenty-six. Did a couple of stints in Riker's for assault, possession. Nothing major." 

"Did he give you anything during the ride over here?" Cragen asked, leafing through the jacket. 

Munch shrugged. "Just said all he did was drive. He shut up for most of the way." 

"Seems to have a real talent for that," Cragen muttered. "Either way, we need to nail this guy. Go through his jackets, see if we can link him or any of his prison friends to Emma, or even Alex, for that matter." 

Elliot took half of the files from Munch and sat down at a desk across from the other detective. They scanned the papers silently, each one searching for any connection between Huey Chen and the Cabot sisters. "Hey, Munch?" Elliot asked after half an hour of fruitless searching. "I'm not seein' anything, how about you?" 

Munch shook his head. "Nothing here. He was represented by the same attorney the first four times he was brought up, Caroline Whitney. The last time, he had a public defender." 

Elliot sighed, nodded and continued his search. After a moment, he glanced up. "Caroline Whitney?" he repeated. "Maybe..." Elliot grabbed the phone. "Liv, it's me. Didn't Alex mention a third sister?" 

"Caroline, why?" she replied immediately. 

"What's her last name?" 

Olivia tilted the phone down, turning to Alex, who was driving. "Alex, what's your sister's married name?" 

"Whitney," Alex replied, not taking her eyes off the road. "She married Kevin about three years ago."

"Whitney," Olivia repeated. 

"Thanks. That's our connection," he told Munch as he disconnected. "His attorney is Kelleher's oldest stepdaughter." 

"Great, a family affair. Maybe Caroline introduced this guy to her family, and stepdad jumped at the chance to involve an ex-con, make him take the fall." 

"Wouldn't be above him. At least we'll get to meet the third Cabot," Elliot said, turning in his seat as the heavy oak door creaked open. "She oughta be here any time now." 

Munch turned and followed Elliot's gaze to the well-dressed man lingering in the doorway. The man walked over to the two detectives and extended his hand. "I'm Peter Kelleher, Mr. Chen's attorney. Are you the two who picked him up?" 

Fighting the urge to throw the man against a wall and beat him until he talked, Elliot simply nodded. "Detectives Stabler and Munch," he introduced them. "Your client's in the interrogation room." 

"Thank you," Peter replied kindly. 

"How's the family these days?" Munch called after him, causing Kelleher to pause. The two exchanged a long stare before Peter chuckled. "Just fine, Detective. How's yours?" He turned on his heel and headed into the interrogation room. 

Growling low, Elliot slammed his desk drawer hard. "Dammit, Munch, we've gotta get this one. He thinks he's a slick sonofabitch. Let's prove him wrong."   
  


* * *  
  


Alex parked the SUV in front of the precinct, pausing to stretch her back and rub her eyes before following Olivia inside. "How long has it been?" 

"About twelve hours since we got called in," Olivia replied, holding the door for Alex. 

Alex shook her head. "And we're no closer. Damn it." 

Munch saw the two women enter, and nudged Stabler. "The fur's gonna fly," he said under his breath. 

"Shit." Elliot hurried over, stalling the pair in the doorway. "Liv, Alex," he acknowledged each with a nod. "How'd it go?" 

"I don't think there's doubt in either of our minds that my stepfather was involved in this. But since he made bail, he magically escaped the tail Bridgeport PD put on him." Alex's tone, tired but still biting, relayed the fact that it was no accident her stepfather had slipped past the authorities. 

"Well, in that case," Elliot said, "I have good news and bad news. The good news is we know where Kelleher is." 

"Where is he?" Alex leapt in before Olivia could reply. 

"Well, that's kind of a long story. Munch picked up a guy in Queens today, Huey Chen. Turns out he was the driver of the van that whisked your sister off." Before Alex could interrupt, Elliot hurried on. "He called his lawyer, who, it turns out, is none other than Peter Kelleher." 

Alex's mouth dropped open, and she looked between Olivia and Elliot. "Oh, you have to be kidding." 

"Unfortunately, I'm not. He's in with Chen right now; Cragen's keeping an eye on 'em through the two-way." 

"Let's go." Alex headed towards the interrogation room, opening the door and moving slowly to the window, standing next to Cragen. "Anything?" 

Cragen shook his head, taking a minute to note her haphazard appearance. "They've been whispering in each other's ears. I guess they know they have company." 

"Wish you were ADA **here**," Olivia commented dryly. "I'd love to see you go up against Kelleher." 

"I'd knock his teeth down his throat," Alex replied lowly. "So is Chen our getaway guy?" 

"Looks like it," Cragen affirmed. 

"Did he give you anything before he lawyered up?" 

"Just that he got a call from 'some dude' telling him when to be in the alley behind Emma's apartment building," Elliot informed her. 

"Anybody else want to venture a guess that 'dude' was my stepfather or one of his lackeys?" Alex sighed, rubbing the bridge of her nose. "We need to beat Emma's location out of one of them." 

Olivia felt the role reversal as she reminded Alex, "Not without getting the entire potential case thrown out of court." 

"There's a part of me that just doesn't care anymore. I just want her back." Alex replied. "Have you talked to the DA about a deal?" 

Cragen nodded. "He'll knock it down, if Chen can give us a name or a place." 

Alex nodded. "Go to them with that, see what you can get. Clock's ticking." 

Cragen nodded, motioning to Benson and Stabler. "You two try. Alex and I will try to find something else." 

Benson opened the door, stepping into the interrogation room with a wary expression. "Good afternoon, boys. Who's ready to play 'Twenty Questions'?" 

"Detective Benson," Kelleher replied. "What kind of deal have we worked out for Mr. Chen?" 

"DA will go for aiding and abetting, rather than a conspiracy charge," Elliot replied. "If Mr. Chen lets us know where he drove to the night Emma was kidnapped, and who told him to drive there." 

Chen sighed. "I dropped them off by the East River, between 56th and 57th." 

"On whose orders?" Olivia demanded, risking a glance at the mirror and hoping Alex hadn't taken off before hearing that. 

"This guy I know, Max. He called me, asked me to meet him there, and bring the van. I got there, waited twenty minutes, and he came out." 

Frowning in confusion, Olivia said, "So this guy, Max, called and gave you your orders? Where'd he get 'em from?" 

Kelleher shook his head. "Sorry, Detective Benson. Mr. Chen has satisfied the requirements for his deal." 

Olivia slipped closer to Kelleher, her brown eyes darkening to a ferocious mahogany. "Not until we verify Max's existence. Until then, your **client**," she spat the word at him, "has no proof of anything he's claiming." 

"Man, I ain't lyin'!" The fury in the detective's eyes was starting to worry the young Chen. "Look, Max keeps with this girl in Chelsea. Her name's Aisha Johnson. He called me from her place Saturday afternoon, said he needed the van. He told me to meet him in that alley at twelve forty-five. He didn't tell me nothing else, I swear to God." 

Kelleher placed a hand on Chen's arm. "That's enough, Huey." He risked a look at Olivia, straightening his shoulders as he did so. "That should satisfy your DA." 

"I guess we'll find out." Olivia turned on her heel, making eye contact with Elliot on the way out, muttering, "Keep an eye on him while I talk to the DA, willya." She stepped through the door to face Alex and Cragen. 

Cragen shook his head as he leaned against the small shelf underneath the two-way mirror. "He's got that kid locked up tighter than a liquor store on Sunday." He looked at Alex, who was staring at Kelleher, her eyes narrowed in an anger he hadn't seen in her in a long time. "Do you have anything in your bag of tricks?" 

Alex said nothing for a moment, but finally turned and faced Cragen and Olivia. "Tell them the DA won't go for the deal unless we have a specific address for Max. And also tell them Huey will be charged as a co-conspirator if we find out he's holding out on us." 

Cragen looked at Olivia for a moment, and then back to Alex. "That's not your call." 

Alex threw him a patented look. "They don't know that." 

Olivia waited a long moment before speaking up. "She's right. Carmichael'd go for it," she mentioned the acting ADA in charge of SVU, "but we don't have time to track her down." Olivia fell silent, waiting for the Captain's okay. 

Cragen shrugged, finally motioning back to the room. "Work your magic. But stay close to shore; I'd rather not have the DA's office screaming at me on the horn, saying we lied to a suspect."

"No deals are guaranteed unless they're in writing. The terms can change under the circumstances," Alex replied easily. Turning to Olivia, she continued. "When you think you can't get any more out of him, have him sign his statement, but inform him of the penalties of perjury. Something tells me that even if Peter's sitting right next to him, an additional five years might scare him into giving us a little more." 

Nodding in understanding, Olivia opened the door and crossed the room in four steps. "No deal," she informed them easily, tucking her hands in her pockets. "Tell us where to find Max, or the DA's gonna charge you with conspiracy to kidnapping." 

"You can't threaten him like that," Kelleher replied. 

"She just did," Elliot bit back. He leaned across the table, looking Huey straight in the eye. "I think you're a good kid, Huey. I think you just got caught up in something. This is your chance to get out of it." 

Huey looked at the three pairs of eyes on him, looking at Kelleher last, trying to stop his face from crumbling under the pressure. "Aisha's place is on Glen Street. 145 Glen Street, apartment 6A. If Max ain't there, he's either at Stan's Pub or Pete's Garage. Both of them are, like, a block away from Aisha's place." 

"What happened when Max met you in the alley?" Elliot asked. 

Kelleher slammed his palm on the table. "You can't ask him that! The deal was for the location only, nothing more." 

Huey leapt up from the table. "Man, shut up! Just shut **up**! This is my ass, not yours, you rich, arrogant shit head." He turned back to Olivia and Elliot, scared tears running in his young eyes. "He came out of the apartment, carrying this chick. He said she was high or something, just needed to sleep it off. He put her in the back seat, and told me to get the hell out of there. I did, and he told me where to drive. When we got to the river, he got out. She was kind of awake, but he still had to kind of drag her out. He told me to wait five minutes, and then leave. He said he'd get me my part of the money later, and then he started walking her down the water. Man, I swear I didn't see where they went. That's all I know, I swear to God." 

Kelleher closed his briefcase. "This interview is over. And I want to talk to your captain." 

Olivia shrugged complacently, gesturing toward the door. "Not my fault your client wants to save his ass. He's a smart kid." As Kelleher turned toward the door, Olivia added in a hushed undertone, "We're gonna get you, Petey." 

Kelleher swiveled on his heel, fire in his eyes. He opted to say nothing, instead throwing the door open and storming halfway into the hallway, stopping when he saw Cragen. "God, I should have known." 

"Yeah, you should have, counselor." Cragen's mouth was set, his tone icy. He took a step closer to Kelleher, the quietness of his words not hiding his seething anger in the slightest. "She's right, you know. Your ass is mine." 

Kelleher chuckled smugly. "If there was anything to prove, Donald - and I'm not saying there is - but don't you think I would have cleaned it up by now?" 

It took every ounce of self-control Cragen had left within him not to deck the smug jackass standing in front of him. "Get out." 

Kelleher stepped back and around Cragen. Before he reached the door, he turned and grinned at Cragen. "Take care of Alexandra for me, would you? I have a feeling she'll need comforting arms tonight." 

Alex waited until she saw Kelleher disappear before opening the door and exiting the viewing room. "I'm gonna kill him myself." 

"Not if I beat you to it." Cragen took several heavy, deep breaths before looking at the lawyer. "We ready to move on Max?" 

Alex nodded. "I think Olivia and Elliot are verifying Huey's statement right now." 

Cragen nodded. "I'll check in with the teams canvassing the river, and get Munch and Cassidy ready to go look at the apartment. I'm assuming you want to ride along?" 

Throwing him another look, Alex chuckled. "If you're going, I'm going." 

"As soon as Stabler and Benson are done, we roll." 

"Abbie? Olivia. Yeah, hi." Olivia's face broke into a little smile as she spoke to the ADA. Explaining the situation, minus a few details, Olivia ended by saying, "So if you could bring down a sworn statement form and...yup, thanks, Abbie." The detective hung up and said to her partner, "As soon as the ADA gets here, we're on our way." 

"Perfect," Elliot replied. He looked at Huey again. "You did good, kid." 

Huey shrugged. "I ain't goin' down for something I didn't do." 

"Is there anything else you need to tell us?" Elliot pressed. 

Huey looked away for a moment, apparently thinking hard. "You know, I remember seeing headlights in my rearview as I was drivin' away. Maybe Max had somebody meet him there." 

"That's real good, Huey," Olivia said encouragingly. "Anything else? Maybe the kind of car it was?" 

Huey shook his head. "I was pretty far away by the time they turned on. But they were those really bright lights, um...halogen," he supplied. "The kind they have on real fancy cars." 

Smiling genuinely now, Olivia nodded. "The DA's gonna be real nice to you, I guarantee it," she said, patting his shoulder. 

There was a brief knock at the door, and Abbie Carmichael stepped inside. She smiled at Olivia and Elliot, and sat down across from Huey. "Have you waived your right to counsel?" 

Huey nodded. "Yes, ma'am." 

Abbie nodded, pulling the affidavit out of her briefcase. Before explaining the procedure to Huey, she looked at Olivia and Elliot. "Cragen wants you outside." 

"A'right," Olivia said, glancing from Huey to Abbie. "You okay with this if we take off, then?" 

Both Abbie and Huey nodded. "I hope you find her," Huey said quietly. 

Elliot patted the young man on the back. "So do I." He followed his partner into the hallway, where Cragen and Alex were talking to Munch and Cassidy. "Nothing yet from the teams on the River," Cragen informed them. 

"Our boy Huey reports there may have been another car involved, Cap," Elliot replied. "May want to widen the search area." 

Cragen nodded. "I'll tell the teams. As for right now, Carmichael brought a search warrant with her to toss Max's place. We find him, we get him and the girlfriend to turn on whoever this mastermind is. Nothing less. Got it?" 

The detectives nodded. Elliot looked at Alex. "You still with us?" 

Alex nodded. "I'll let you drive this time." 

Olivia glanced from Elliot to Alex. As the rest of the crowd dispersed, she rapped Elliot on the arm. "Makin' friends with the live wire now?" she teased. 

"As a wise detective once told me: 'shut up'." Elliot headed back to his desk, grabbing his jacket.   
  


* * *  
  


Alex stood well behind the team as they prepared to bash the apartment door in. "Police! Open up!" Cragen hollered. He was preparing to give the signal when the chains on the door started to hurriedly unlock. A young black woman opened the door, her eyes wide. "What the hell?" 

"Are you Aisha Johnson?" Elliot barked, gun still drawn. 

"Yeah!" she replied, hurriedly grabbing a white ball of fluff that served as a cat before he escaped down the hall. 

"Where's Max?" Cragen asked. 

Aisha ducked out of the way at the storming team. "In the bedroom! Oh, my God!" 

Elliot and Cragen parted like the Red Sea, allowing Olivia room to get through. They all had a stake in the outcome, yet there was a silent acknowledgment that this was **her** bust. 

Olivia kept her back against the wall, arms bent, gun cocked and ready. Her heart pounded in her chest as she sidled along the wall toward the bedroom silently. Without turning her attention from the closed bedroom door, Olivia beckoned the rest of the team closer. "Max!" she called. "This is the police. Come out now and we can do this the easy way." Her head cocked, listening for the telltale sign of a window being pushed open. Olivia held a hand up, three fingers upraised. She lowered one, then another, finally the third, gesturing toward the bedroom. Throwing her shoulder against the door, Olivia heard the distinct crack of the frame as she stumbled through, gun level. 

"Hands in the air! Hands in the air!" Cragen snapped. Max continued his attempts to force himself through the bathroom window and out onto the fire escape until Cragen grabbed him by the waist and threw him down onto the tile. Max howled in pain, looking up at the six guns drawn in his face. "What the hell is this?" 

"Emma Cabot. Where is she?" Cragen ordered. 

"Emma who?" Max replied, yelping again as Stabler hoisted him onto his feet by his underarms. "I don't know what you're talking about." 

"Hold him, Elliot," Olivia snarled, pressing herself up in Max's face. "Her!" she said, brandishing a wallet-size picture of Emma that Alex given her. "The college kid you snatched Saturday night," the brunette detective growled at him. "Tell me where she is." The venom in her voice was palpable as a hush fell over the cops. 

"I don't know, I swear." Max's face was soaked with sweat. He grimaced as Elliot bent his arm awkwardly behind his back. 

"Try again," Stabler hissed in his ear. 

"I picked her up, and drove her down by the river. Then I dropped her off in some Lexus, and the guy peeled out of there. I don't know where he took her." 

"You gotta give us more than that," Olivia said in a syrupy-sweet voice, tucking Emma's picture safely away. Her hand reached out, closing loosely around Max's throat. At that point, she didn't care what might be thrown out of court a month later because of alleged police brutality; she just wanted to find Emma. Somewhere in the back of her mind, Olivia was aware that Alex had come up behind her, although she was still well back from the action. 

The heat in the tiny bathroom was stifling, and Olivia watched the sweat start to trickle down the faces of Elliot and Cragen as she tightened her grip slightly on Max's neck. 

Max struggled to speak, and Alex started to panic as he started to turn blue before her eyes. She placed a hand on Olivia's back, saying, "We need him, Olivia." 

Max nodded, sputtering. "His...name..." 

Jumping slightly at the contact, Olivia reflexively released her chokehold on Max. Her hand still cupped his throat, ready to resume the pressure. 

"Give us a name, Max," Cragen warned. "Or I'll let her keep going." 

Max wheezed for a minute, wiping his face on his shoulder as best he could. "Brian," he said. "His name was Brian." 

His heart pounding in his ears, Cragen took a step closer to Max, cornering him between Olivia and Elliot. "Brian what?" 

"I don't know, I swear to God," Max replied quickly. "He never told me. He said we had mutual friends, and that he needed a favor." 

"What kind of favor?" Elliot pressed. 

"Said he needed to get rid of some bitch who was causing him problems. He said there was two hundred grand in it for me!"

"How'd he contact you?" Cragen's tone quickened with impatience. 

"He called me on my cell twice. Told me where she was, how to get in. Told me to get to the river, and he'd meet me there." 

Releasing him, Olivia fell back with a weary sigh. She threw over her shoulder to Alex, "We'll need a warrant to dump his cell phone." Eyeing Max, Olivia shook her head. "Let's get this piece of shit downtown." 

"What did he do after he met you there?" Alex asked Max, watching Cragen and Stabler manhandle him. 

"He put her in the trunk of his car," Max replied, fighting against the two men. "Hey, watch your hands, ladies."

"What kind of car?" Alex pressed, moving backwards into the hallway. 

"Lexus sedan. Connecticut plates." 

Cragen and Alexandra locked eyes across the small bathroom. "Get him out of here," Cragen ordered, and two uniforms hauled Max to the waiting car. 

Elliot looked between the Captain and the ADA. "Tell me Peter has a Lexus sedan." 

"Brand new," Alex replied. "Put Kelleher's face in a photo lineup, see if Max can ID him." 

"All right, you three toss the place," Cragen said, indicating Olivia, Elliot and Munch. "Cassidy's back downtown with me for the lineup." He turned to Alex, handing her a small pad and pen from his back pocket. "Do you know the license plate of Kelleher's car?" 

"4GR 7L6," Alexandra recited. As perplexed looks crossed the faces of the detectives still cramped in the bathroom, she shrugged. "It was parked in the driveway while Olivia interviewed him. I had a long time to stare at it."   
  


* * *  
  


"Thank you, God," Munch muttered under his breath. He nodded to the uniform who had joined him in the interrogation room with Max, and said, "You can take him to holding." 

He exited the room and strode like the cat who ate the canary, flopping the viewing book down on Elliot's desk. "You'll find our guy on page three." 

Elliot immediately flipped to the recommended page, and grinned when he saw Peter Kelleher's ugly mug staring up at him. "Max IDed him as Brian?" 

Munch nodded. "I'll go ask Cap for an APB on the car." 

"In New York and Connecticut," Elliot reminded, heading towards the rack. He knocked lightly, and stuck his head in, finding Alex cross-legged on the cot. After they had returned from searching Max's apartment, the ADA and Cragen had gotten into an animated argument on how shitty she looked. She agreed to try to rest for a few minutes, and from the looks of her, it hadn't worked. Elliot cleared his throat, causing Alex's tired eyes to meet his own. "Max IDed Kelleher as our guy." 

Alex tilted her head back, resting it against the concrete. "Thank God for small miracles. APB?" 

"Already sent out," Elliot replied. 

"Good. What do we do now?" Alex asked. She wanted to go down and search by the river, but Cragen had told her there was no way in hell she was going; she was already too involved as it was. 

"Well," Elliot hedged gently, "Have you eaten lately?" 

Alex regarded him for a moment, then shook his head. "You sound like Cragen." 

"Go grab some food, take a walk, clear your head. There's nothing to do yet." Elliot turned, heading back into the hallway. Passing his partner, he caught her arm gently. "Grab ten minutes when you can, Liv." 

"What's going on?" she asked, immediately alert. 

"Kelleher's definitely our guy. Max picked him out of the book." Elliot lowered his voice, as they were still fairly close to the resting room. "I don't think he's left the city, and there's a part of me guessing he's probably heading to Emma now. He's not going to give her up without a fight." 

Olivia's stomach heaved and she fought to maintain control. "You're right," she agreed in a low voice. "Think Cragen'd have a problem if I took Alex's mind off this for a little while?" 

Elliot shook his head. "He just had me try. Maybe you'll have better luck." 

"'Kay." Olivia wandered off toward the rack, distraction coloring her unfocused gaze. "Hey," she said, leaning around the doorframe. "Didja eat yet?" 

Alex couldn't contain a chuckle at the thinly veiled attempts to get her out of the detectives' hair. "No," she replied. "You?" 

"Nope. I'm not very hungry, but Cragen ordered me to eat, so either I try or get fired. Wanna join me?" 

Alex rubbed her face with the palms of her hands, and finally assented, pulling on her sneakers. As they passed by Olivia's desk, she grabbed her wallet out of her bag, and followed the brunette into the fading afternoon sunshine. "We're getting close to the twenty-four hour mark," she commented quietly. 

"Yeah," was all Olivia could say for a minute. They walked side-by-side in silence until she added, "It's okay. You know forty-eight's the real deadline. So we're only halfway there." 

Alex offered a slight smile and nod. She rubbed the back of her neck, trying to relieve the tension. "Do you think she's already dead, Olivia?" 

Hesitating just a moment too long, Olivia said firmly, "No. We're gonna find her, Alex." 

"Oh, I know we're going to find her. I'm just starting to worry about her condition when we do." She stopped in front of a Chinese buffet, and indicated it with a slight raising of her hand. "Does this work for you, or did you want something lighter?" 

"This is fine." Olivia found herself struggling to keep from falling into a pit of negative thoughts surrounding Emma. They **had** to find her, they **would** find her, and she **would** be fine. 

Alex expelled a deep breath as they were seated, looking over the buffet selections. She couldn't contain a smile when she read one of the dishes. "Emma and I ordered Chinese food all the time when we lived together. We tried a new place once, and she had their moo shu pork. She hated it so much that she called up the place and told them to rename it 'moo shit' pork." Alex shook her head at the memory, basking in it for the split second it lasted. She found it nice to break away from the tragedy of the past day and think of happier times in her sister's life; there hadn't been many. "She was always the brazen child, openly defying everyone. I always admired that about her." 

"She probably got it from you," Olivia said, fingering the napkin lying on the table. 

Alex smiled, but shook her head. "No, I think it was probably the other way around. I saw how comfortable she was with herself, her take-charge attitude, and after I passed the bar, I kind of assumed that persona. But underneath, there's still a little introverted, shy middle-child lurking, threatening to come out." She took a sip of the offered water. "I think you've seen it, actually." 

"But do you think that's really you now?" Olivia argued quietly, pausing to give her drink order to the waitress who had appeared. When the woman left, she continued, "I think maybe you've become that woman you were pretending to be - or you pretend really well, **all** the time." 

Alex leaned back in her chair and regarded the detective. "Are you shrinking me?" she queried, with an air of teasing. She bit her bottom lip before answering Olivia's question. "I think, with the affirmation of my successes in the courtroom, I have learned to be more forward, take more chances. I doubt you would have seen me leaping up and objecting in a non-jurisdictional court right after I passed the bar." 

Half-smiling, Olivia nodded understandingly. "I have a psych degree," she explained, "so I tend to look at everything in a psychoanalytic light. Sorry." 

Alex shook her head. "As long as you don't tell me I'm still caught in the anal stage, we're good to go." 

Olivia tilted her head back and laughed aloud. "I won't, I promise. The guys tease me all the time about Freud and shit - stuff," she corrected, lowering her voice. "Munch seems to think I'm in a perpetual phallic stage and that's why I can't 'find a man', in his words." 

Alex joined in her laughter, liking the freedom it brought. "Oh, because he seems like the long-term relationship type." She chuckled, taking another sip of water. "I love the social stigma, though; I mean, you could break half the men in New York City with your bare hands, and here they all are, telling you you're still suffering from penis envy." She ran a hand through her unruly blonde hair. "It's a crock, if you ask me." 

Misunderstanding the word, Olivia's eyes widened. "What'd you say?" 

"What?" Alex watched the change in Olivia's face. "No, no, no. Crock, Olivia. With an 'r'." She couldn't contain a bit more laughter. "Okay, we really need to stop talking about crazy Austrian psychologists now." 

The relief was evident in Olivia's eyes. "Oh, jeez, sorry. Guess you can tell where **my** mind is." Her face turned a deep shade of burgundy. 

Alex chuckled and patted Olivia's hand briefly. "It's okay. It's been a long day." Although part of her really wanted to ask Olivia exactly where her mind was, Alex instead motioned to the buffet. "I guess I'll grab something while we're here." 

"Yeah." Olivia followed Alex to the line, quietly gathering a plate full of food; suddenly, she was starved. 

Hoping the buzzing of the heat lamps covered the rumbling of her stomach, Alex made her way back to the table, spearing a piece of sweet and sour chicken with her fork. She caught the excess sauce with her tongue, and wiped her mouth, the lasting impression of her mother's "Alexandra Cabot, you will not eat like a heathen," dictatorial tone ringing in her ears. "I hate it when Cragen's right," she said after a few minutes. "I was hungry." 

"He's usually right," Olivia grumbled good-naturedly, digging into her lo mein. "We just don't tell him - don't want his head swelling up." 

Alex chuckled, trying one of the crab rangoon pieces. "Any more than it already is," she amended. "He's always had that attitude, though - I doubt it'll go away." 

Glancing up, Olivia crooked an eyebrow, a forkful pausing on its way to her mouth. "You know Cragen? I mean, before now?" 

Panicking slightly, Alexandra finally nodded. "Yeah, he and I met about six years ago, when Emma came into the city. She has a civil restraining order against Peter, and through the Full Faith and Credit act, it's good wherever she goes. I went with her to file one in the precinct where she lived, and he happened to assist us that day. We stayed in touch." 

Noticing a different expression on Alex's face, Olivia hoped she wasn't crossing a line when she said, "Really? Hard to imagine it ending there. Cragen's got a good eye for intelligent women." 

It was Alex's turn to raise her eyebrow. "Yes, he does." Reluctantly, she continued. "We...were close for about three years, until I got the ADA job in Westchester. I moved, he got transferred to SVU. We're still tight, but not in any particularly..." she let the word roll off her tongue as she thought of the appropriate word, "romantic way, I guess." Alex watched Olivia's face. "Are you two...?" 

"No." Olivia shook her head emphatically. "Not that I don't appreciate him." She smiled enigmatically, adding, "I have eyes, after all. But he's not...my type." 

Alex nodded in understanding. "What, you like them emotionally available or something?" She took another sip of water, faltering on how to continue the conversation. "Must be hard maintaining a social life, though, with the hours you carry. I mean, you've been working almost twenty-four hours straight on one case." 

"Emotionally available is a plus," Olivia grinned. "Yeah, this isn't really typical. Lots of my days are nine to five, weekends off. It's just when something needs immediate attention that we stay on 'round-the-clock." She finished another bite, then added, "I'll tell you, though, if I were in the mood to date, it'd be someone like Elliot." Brandishing her fork, Olivia threatened belatedly, "Don't tell him I told you that." 

Alex crossed her heart. "Your secret's safe." She grabbed another bite of chicken before teasing, "You could easily have Cassidy, though. Those puppy-dog looks he gives you are hysterical." 

"Oh, God." Olivia rolled her eyes, munching for a second. "He's a sweet little boy, but I like having a lover I don't need to potty-train." She paused, giving Alex a thoughtfully perusing look. "Definitely, if I had any inclination, I'd want someone energetic, intelligent, not too overbearing. You know," she finished quickly, "kinda like you." 

Alex's responding chuckle was swallowed by her half-embarrassed grin. "Thanks," she replied. She sat back in her chair, pensive. "I need somebody independent, strong, but who also has that caring streak for the moments when I show my weaknesses." Matching Olivia's contemplative gaze, Alex smiled gently. "You've done an exceptional job on the latter two over the past days, Olivia. I owe you my thanks - and probably my sanity." 

"Ehn," Olivia shrugged noncommittally. The return of the compliment made her squirm internally. "I haven't seen much of this 'weakness' you're talking about." 

"Trust me when I say you've seen a hell of a lot more than I normally allow myself to show others," Alex replied. "And don't shrug me off. I don't thank people - or apologize - all that often." 

"A'right," Olivia defended, holding her hands up in defeat. "Thank you, and you're welcome for whatever you think I did." 

She had just opened her mouth to speak again when the waitress approached, holding a cordless phone. "Are you police?" the woman asked in nervously broken English. 

"Yes," Olivia replied, noticing the phone. "Is there a call for me?" Her brow knit in confusion. 

"Yes, yes, phone." The waitress shoved the cordless into Olivia's hand and took off. 

"Benson." 

He cleared his throat off the receiver for a moment before replying in a higher pitch. "Hi, Detective Benson. I'm calling from the Westchester DA's office. I'm trying to reach Miss Cabot." 

"Oh, sure, hold on." Olivia passed the phone to Alex. "Someone from your office." 

Alex's brow crinkled as she put the portable to her ear. "This is Alexandra Cabot." 

There was a pause and a shuffling on the other end of the phone, and Alex bent her head to try and hear better. "Hello?" 

"Allie!" Emma screamed in her ear, and Alex straightened, panicked eyes meeting Olivia's. 

Olivia saw the shift in Alex's eyes and immediately knew what was going on. It was confirmed when she heard Alex say Emma's name. Grabbing her cell, she dialed Elliot and briefed him, even as Alex battled tears across the booth from her. 

"Emma?" Alex replied, trying to stay calm and not alert the other diners. "Emma, are you all right?" 

Her sister sniffled, her breathing broken and her words whispered. "Al, you gotta find me, please. He's gonna kill me." 

Alexandra took in a shuddering breath. "No, baby, he's not. I'm gonna find you, I swear. You just have to hang on, okay? Tell me where you are, Em." 

"I'm sorry, Allie. I love you." There was more shuffling, and Alex heard Emma cry out in pain. Tears started slipping down her face as her stepfather's voice filled her ears. "You don't think you're going to find her alive, do you, Alexandra?" 

"You son of a bitch," Alex seethed. "I'll kill you if you lay a hand on her." 

"Too late," Kelleher replied, and Alex heard Emma scream again. "Put the lovely Detective Benson on the phone." 

Alex set her mouth. "You don't get to call the shots here, Peter." 

There was another sharp yelp and Emma came back on the line. "Allie," she pleaded. "Please do what he says. He's got a gun." 

Alex's face crumbled, and she tried to hide behind her hand. "All right, here's Detective Benson." She handed the phone to Olivia, curling her hand into a fist, trying to keep the tears in. 

Olivia was up out of the booth and around the other side in a split second. Her arm went around Alex automatically, welcoming the other woman to take comfort if she wanted it. Her left hand held the phone to her ear. "What do you want?" she asked, her voice the model of controlled fury. 

"I wanted two things, Detective. Or may I call you Olivia?" Without waiting for a reply, Kelleher continued. "I first wanted to thank you for taking such good care of my Alexandra. She hasn't had a friend as good as you in quite some time. Secondly, I wanted to introduce you to the body you'll be finding. Say hello, Emma." 

Emma's voice was quiet and even. "Tell my sister how proud I am of her. And make sure she knows this isn't her fault, and how much I love her. And - and tell her to remember that if it isn't fresh, it isn't legal!" 

Emma's voice drew further away as Kelleher pried the phone out of her hands. There was a scuffle and a loud thud on the other end of the phone before Kelleher came back on the line. "Good day, Detective."

THE END


	3. Close

Olivia drew breath to speak, only to be greeted by the buzz of a disconnected line. Dropping the phone onto the table, she peered awkwardly at Alexandra, trying to gauge whether she should release the blonde from their half-hug. 

Alex had turned further into the crook of Olivia's embrace, but separated herself to wipe her face of the tears that escaped. She took a few deep breaths and looked up at Olivia. "We don't have much time. We have to find him, **now**." 

"I know. She said something that didn't make sense," Olivia added. She repeated Emma's comment. "Is it some kind of commercial?" 

"Yeah, it's the slogan for Legal Seafood," Alex replied, sniffling slightly. "But as far as I know, their main locations are in Massachusetts and Rhode Island." She leaned back in her chair. "Wait a minute, are there shelling locations along the East River? Like, a seafood warehouse?" 

"The whole coast of the East River, from South Street to about Jackson Street is all seafood collection, distribution, wholesale and resale," Olivia told her, trying to keep her mind on Emma. All she wanted to do was find Peter Kelleher and rip his heart out for what he was doing to the Cabots. 

"Damn it," Alex replied, rubbing her eyes. "He wouldn't risk being seen, so it has to be in a less populated or even abandoned area, right?" 

"Right." Olivia went over a mental list of recently closed sites. He wouldn't chance anything that might be re-opening soon. 

Alex stood, putting two twenties on the table. She looked at Olivia, grabbing her hand. "Let's get out of here. We need to go back and think up a plan of attack. No more shitting around. We're going after him." 

Olivia squeezed Alex's hand as they walked outside, hating herself for what she knew she had to do. "Alex," she began gently, "I'm sorry, but this is where your involvement has to end." 

Alex shook her head emphatically. "No way in hell I'm leaving, Olivia. You have to know better than that." 

Her voice was firm with conviction. "I'm not suggesting this as a friend; I'm telling you as a cop, and one of the heads of this investigation. Kelleher's using you to get to us, and Emma's the only loser in his game. I need everyone on my team to have a clear head, and you're just too close to it." She didn't add what she was thinking - that she, herself, was now too close to Alex to begin to think clearly about her sister's disappearance; she had a job to do, and she'd do it. 

The magnitude of the anger coursing through her body had Alexandra shaking like a leaf. "I am not leaving," she affirmed, the staccato in her voice punctuating every syllable. It wasn't until she continued that her voice broke. "I left her once, and look what happened. I'm not—" She cleared her throat and repeated herself more forcefully. "I am **not** leaving her. You'll have to arrest me." 

"If I have to." Olivia fought the urge to give into the pain in her voice, to salve Alex's guilt. "I told you if you were a risk to my case, I'd pull you. Whether you like it or not, Kelleher's made you a variable. For Emma's sake, I can't let you go any further." 

"Damn you," Alex retorted, rubbing the back of her neck again. The tears were starting to flow again, as hard as she fought against them. Finally, she blinked them away and regarded the woman in front of her. "I'll stay away, reluctantly," Alex finally promised. "But only if you bring her home, and put him in a body bag." 

"That's my job," Olivia confirmed, making her voice gentle. "I'm sorry, you know I am." 

Alex shook her head minutely, her response equally gentle. "No, you're not. But you're doing what's right for my sister, and I respect that." She squeezed Olivia's hand again, and motioned back in the general direction of the precinct. "Let's go." 

They rode back in silence, Olivia hoping that whatever progress they'd made toward a friendship of sorts wouldn't be dashed to pieces by her doing her job. 

Cragen was waiting for them when the two women returned. "Stabler told me what happened," he said quietly, placing a hand on Alexandra's shoulder. "You okay?" 

Alex nodded. "I'm fine. Emma gave a clue to Olivia, though." 

"We think she's somewhere along the East River, near a seafood warehouse," Olivia filled him in with a reluctant shrug of her shoulders. "Doesn't narrow it down much." 

"But it narrows it down some," Cragen replied. "Most of the teams have searched a good portion of that area since Chen reported the drop-off location." He turned to the rest of his detectives. "We're all going out. Get ready to go in five." He turned back to Alex. "You know I can't let you go out there." 

Alex waved a dismissive hand in his face. "Olivia already had that talk with me. Just get her home." 

Cragen nodded, fighting an overwhelming urge to hug her. Instead, he nodded again, and turned to Munch. "Where's Cassidy?" 

"Little boys' room. I'll go get him." 

Elliot nodded at Alex as he headed outside to one of the waiting sedans. "We'll get her back." 

Alex smiled her thanks briefly before sitting down at Olivia's desk. It was going to be an abominable wait. 

Olivia indicated the door with a wave of her hand. "I'll be out in a sec," she told Elliot, who nodded and left. Crossing the room to her desk, she stood over Alex with a sympathetic expression. Crouching down, she tried to catch the blue eyes of the ADA. "My first case as a detective," she said softly, "was a little girl who'd been physically abused by her foster parents, almost fatally. My partner and I stood outside the operating room for almost an hour while they tried to repair internal injuries." 

Alex said nothing, but cocked her head in interest. 

The memories filled Olivia's voice with a sadness few people ever heard. "We finally had to concentrate on other cases. I felt like I was abandoning Jaime." She cleared her throat, swallowing hard. "But I couldn't do anything for her - it was up to the doctors. I thought that wait would kill me. Jaime woke up four hours after the surgery was over, and mine was the first face she saw. She looked up at me with those big brown eyes and asked if I was an angel, because I'd saved her from her parents." It was all Olivia could do not to cry. "I won't pretend I'm any better at waiting now than I was six years ago when I made detective, but I've learned a few things. Among them is that there are some things you just can't control. I know this isn't the same situation by any means, but...I know how you feel." Olivia leaned over and hugged Alex carefully. 

Touched by her honesty, Alex held Olivia tightly, rubbing the detective's back gently, with an ease born of practice. "Thanks," she whispered, leaning back. She motioned to the door with a nod of her chin. "Go be Emma's angel." 

With a wry smile, Olivia nodded and disappeared through the heavy oak doors. 

Elliot watched Olivia carefully as she entered the sedan. As he pulled away from the precinct towards their search area, he took another glance. "You good, Liv?" 

"I'm good," she said, her voice tremulous. "Let's nail this fucker."   
  


* * *  
  


Elliot let the car roll to a silent stop in the gravel behind Pier Seven. He climbed out, going for his holster. He took one last look at Olivia over the top of the car before motioning to the first row of broken windows. "We'll start here."  He ducked under some broken beams and carefully entered the abandoned structure. Shining his flashlight around the high ceilings, Elliot shook his head at Olivia. "You see anything?" 

"Not a thing. There's nowhere to hide a bod—anybody around here," Olivia corrected herself. "Let's keep going." 

Elliot stepped out of the warehouse, heading further down the path. They inspected three more buildings, and were about to enter a fourth, when he stopped, looking at the gravel in front of him. "Those look like tire tracks to you?" 

Bending down to look closer, Olivia nodded. Raising her head, she followed the tracks with her eyes. "They go down toward the ferry. Hell, Elliot, it's the fucking Hoboken ferry," she cursed. "The kid could be in Delaware now for all we know." 

Elliot shook his head. "He found you and Alex at that restaurant. I doubt he'd use any more third parties, seeing as that's how we tracked him." He rose and looked downriver. "No, this guy wants to be here." 

Calming slightly, Olivia nodded agreement with her levelheaded partner. "Then where is he?" she asked rhetorically. 

Elliot continued down the waterway, noting they were nearing the end of their designated search area. "You want to keep going and meet up with Munch and Cassidy?" 

"No," Olivia said, struck by an idea. "Elliot, the article in the paper last week - the front page, on the bottom," she said, turning to look at him. "Do you remember what it said about construction on the ferry?" 

"Vaguely," Elliot replied, not sure of the connection. "They were moving the departure location of the ferry, right?" 

"Yeah - to Pier 10. I remember, 'cause the ferry's been at Pier 11 since I was born," Olivia explained. Then she got to the heart of her hunch. "If the ferries leave from Pier 10, Elliot, why is there a ferryboat moored off Pier 11?" she asked. 

"Shit," he muttered. "Nice work, Liv." They made their way closer to the ferry, which upon further inspection, was out of date and seemingly abandoned. Elliot did a quick look out around the surrounding waters, his heart rate tripling and the adrenaline starting to pump. "Liv," he whispered, pointing. "Look." 

Olivia swiveled her head, following Elliot's finger past the ferry, across Pier 11, to the opposite boat docks. Tilting her head, she gasped inwardly as she realized what he'd seen.  The giant lobster painted on the side, underneath the words 'Jim's Wholesale Lobster and Shrimp' gave away the boat's business. "Emma was trying to tell us something about seafood. You don't suppose?" Olivia did a 180-degree turn, and found the ferry directly in her sight.  "Emma's on that boat." Her voice was an odd mix of elation and terror. 

Elliot pulled the walkie-talkie out of his back pocket and radioed Cragen. "This is Stabler. We need backup ASAP, Pier 11. Abandoned ferry." 

Cragen's response crackled in his hand. "On our way." 

Cocking the gun, Elliot looked at Olivia. "Go?" 

Olivia double-checked her gun and started toward the abandoned ferry. "Cover me." Her heart pounded as she crept up on the ship. Approaching from the back, Olivia led Elliot up the gangplank and clambered over the railing. Sneaking onto the first floor, her ears were cocked for any noise. 

His eyes adjusting to the dark, Elliot kept close, his own senses adapting and on high alert. He dimmed his flashlight just enough that they could see, and as he tilted it towards the floor, something caught the light and reflected it back in his face. He knelt down and picked up the silver charm bracelet. "Liv," he whispered, barely a puff of air escaping his lips. He held it up so she could see its inscription: 'Emma'. 

"Christ," Olivia mouthed silently. She struck out toward the front of the boat, the empty seats giving the ferry an eerie, 'Titanic'-like aura. She stumbled and almost fell, catching herself on a bulkhead. _Dammit__,_ she grumbled silently. Glancing down at the offending piece of floor, what glared back at her was a wrought-iron circular handle, attached to a trap door. It was clearly labeled 'Crew Only'. Pointing, she turned her face toward Elliot. "Down?" she whispered simply. 

Elliot nodded, easing the door open, and allowing Olivia to move down the stairs first. He followed with the light, making out at least three cabins and the door to the engine room. Elliot cocked his head towards the latter. 

_Please don't come in here,_ she pleaded mentally, trying to scrape the chair against the rotting floorboards. _Please, God, don't let them come in here._

Nodding, Olivia led the way. Her sneakers were soundless against the wooden deck; the waves outside were the only source of noise. Fingering the door handle, the detective quickly weighed her options, reaching for the lock pick kit in her jeans pocket. Fitting the pick into the lock, she twisted hard, and the lock gave way with a quiet snap. 

The noises made her whimper, knowing they were right outside. She fought against the restraints again, trying to inch closer to the door in warning. 

He stood against the wall, chest heaving, eyes wild and feral, waiting for them to make their move. He had itched for this all day, itched for this release. And he was going to claim it as his own. 

"On three," Elliot mouthed. "One, two..." On three, he kicked the door open, taking the right side of the jamb. Kelleher's own gun connected swiftly with Elliot's jaw, sending Stabler halfway to his knees. Emma continued to fight against her restraints and her gags, flailing as best she could. 

Watching her partner go down, Olivia snapped into attack mode. "Drop it!" she screamed, knowing that she'd only have one chance to speak. Kelleher wouldn't wait any longer. 

Kelleher charged Olivia, but Elliot caught the man's leg and dragged him down to the floor. The sound of the gun skittering across the floor was engulfed by Elliot's grunt as Kelleher kicked him in the face in an attempt to get free. Peter got to his feet, breathing heavily, and stared Olivia down. 

Her gun level with Kelleher's face, Olivia couldn't help smirking. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see his gun, across the room, out of reach. "I told you I'd get you, Petey." 

"You haven't gotten me yet, Olivia," Peter replied evenly. "Gonna have to shoot me," he taunted, turning and heading towards Emma. 

"Take one more step and I'll put a bullet in you, you sick motherfucker!" Olivia bellowed, so loudly that she hurt her own ears. 

Kelleher ignored her completely, and continued his beeline towards his stepdaughter. 

The report of Olivia's gun echoed in their ears as the scent of gunpowder filled the air. The next sound she heard was a terrified whimper. Stepping over Kelleher's motionless form, Olivia leaned behind the chair and cut the ropes binding Emma to it. "Are you okay?" she asked gently, peeling the tape off the girl's mouth. 

"Oh, I am so very not okay," Emma replied, nearly hyperventilating. "Oh, my God." Once she started sobbing, she couldn't stop. She used Olivia's hands to pull herself from the chair and almost threw herself into the detective's arms. 

The gunshot echoed over the quiet water, sending Cragen, Munch, Cassidy, and half a dozen uniforms bolting to the ship. 

"Benson! Stabler!" Cragen called. 

"Down below, Cap," Elliot called back, trying to stop the bleeding from his nose. 

Cragen entered first, saying a private prayer of thanks as he saw Emma, bruised and sobbing, but otherwise unharmed, in Olivia's arms. "Munch, help Elliot upstairs. Cassidy, call EMS." He headed over towards the shaking Emma, putting a soft hand on her back. 

When Munch and Elliot reached shore, neither was very surprised as they saw an anxious Alexandra Cabot waiting at the end of the dock; after being relegated to the police station, she had taken her own car and followed the train of cruisers to the docks against orders. "Is she all right?" Alex's emotional voice echoed across the water. 

Elliot nodded. "She's fine. Olivia and Cragen are with her." 

Olivia let Emma cry for a few moments before she said softly, "It's okay. You need to calm down, okay?" Holding the girl at arm's length, Olivia was taken aback as she stared into Emma's cobalt-blue eyes, the same ones her sister had. "Okay?" she repeated as Emma hiccupped. 

Taking another deep breath, Emma nodded. She placed a steadying hand on Cragen's chest. "Donald," she started quietly, "he drugged me with a muscle relaxant or something. I can't feel my legs." 

Cragen nodded, hooking his arm underneath her knees. Emma wrapped her arms around his neck, and he carried her upstairs to safety. As they passed by Kelleher, she spit in his general direction. "May you burn in hell, you son of a bitch." 

Alex waited anxiously on the dock for any sign of her sister. As soon as Cragen emerged with Emma in his arms, Alexandra was caught between crying tears of joy and laughing. Cragen made his way down the gangplank and set Emma upright. Younger sister embraced older; the nightmare was over.   
  


* * *  
  


The nightmare was back. Tossing and turning, she couldn't feel her legs. She had to get onto the boat; she had to get to Emma. No! Emma had to get to her - but it wasn't Emma. It was Alex. Alex had to find her. Olivia started to cry. Alex had found her once, she could do it again. 

She woke up shaking, tears streaming down her face. The same nightmare had plagued her for years, taking the form of one victim or another. _This time,_ Olivia told herself, _it just happens to be the last case I worked._ The dim light of the room was enough for her to see the scribbled note in red on the calendar. E-Day. Kelleher's trial would start in...two hours, Olivia realized as she checked the clock. She'd seen neither hide nor hair of Alex and Emma since the Emma had been found. Olivia guessed they'd had a lot to do; recovering from a trauma like that didn't happen overnight, and Alex was committed not to leave her sister's side until the entire ordeal was over. With all the trial preparations, Olivia knew they wouldn't have had time to visit, or even call. Somehow, though, there was an emptiness. A mere twenty-four hours with the Cabots at the center of her life, and when the whirlwind was over, she missed it in some twisted way. 

Alex lingered in the hallway in front of courtroom 101, waiting for Emma to finish reapplying her makeup in the ladies' room. It had been a little more than four weeks since Emma's ordeal had ended. Huey was sentenced to a year and a half in prison for his role in the plot, and Max was sentenced to six years, both in exchange for their testimony about Peter's involvement. Peter, in turn, had been convicted. His sentence would be handed down today by the judge, after the victim impact statements were read. 

Alex hated to admit it, but she could have used Olivia's help in the interim. Peter had raped Emma several times on the boat, allowing all of her previous childhood traumas to resurface. The nightmares came soon after, as well as the social phobia; Emma had stayed holed up in the hotel room day and night. All of the work she and Emma's therapist had done was wiped clean by one day of terror. 

Emma emerged, straightening her blouse. "What time is it?" 

"Eight forty-five," Alex replied. "Do you want to go in now?" 

Emma hesitated, and then shook her head. "We can wait until closer to nine, I think." 

Alex nodded, guiding her sister over to a bench. "Do you want a coffee? Something to eat?" 

Emma shook her head. "I'm fine, Alex." She paused, and then looked back at Alex. "Donald's coming, right?" 

Alex nodded. "Yeah, everyone's coming. Mostly to keep me from leaping over the rail and throttling him." 

Emma offered a slight smile, and Alex smiled back, wrapping an arm around her sister. "You're gonna be fine," Alex soothed. "You already got him convicted. This is gravy." 

Emma chuckled. "I'm glad one of us has faith in me." 

"Two," Olivia corrected. She smiled perfunctorily at them from a few feet away. "I know what you went through, Emma, and if you made it through that trial, this'll be a cakewalk." 

Alex nudged her sister's shoulders. "She should know." 

Emma smiled a little wider now. "Thanks, Detective Benson." 

Abbie Carmichael came out of the courtroom, smiling tightly at the three women. "We're about to get started. You ready to come in?" 

Emma nodded, sighing. "Ready as I'll ever be." She rose and started in, looking back over her shoulder at her sister. Alex held up her index finger, assuring her sister with a smile she'd be right in. As the doors closed behind them, Alex looked at Olivia. "Thanks for coming. Emma and I really appreciate the support." 

"Anything I can do to help," Olivia said gently. "You two need all you can get." Her brow furrowed. "I can't believe Caroline's speaking on his behalf." 

Alex shook her head. "My mother and sister, co-founders of Denial Land. But as Emma pointed out last night, their testimony is only going to make them look crazier." 

"Here's hoping." Olivia reached for the door handle, holding it open for Alex. 

Alex sat next to Emma, grateful when Olivia slid in next to her. The judge called court to order, and a swell of pride and amusement amplified through Alex as her stepfather was brought in, shackled and in his orange prisoner jumpsuit. She took Emma's hand briefly, before returning her attention to the judge. 

"As I understand it, we have four impact statements to be read. One from Miss Whitney, one from Mrs. Kelleher, one from Alexandra Cabot, and the last from Emma Cabot. Is that correct, Miss Carmichael?" 

Abbie rose. "Yes, Your Honor." 

"Very well. Miss Whitney, since you defended your stepfather at trial, I'm going to request your impact statement be brief." 

"Yes, Your Honor." Caroline rose and strode to the podium. She looked at her sisters briefly before addressing the court. "Peter Kelleher is a sick, sick man, and was manipulated in this case by an even sicker individual, Mark Miller." 

"Objection, Your Honor. Miss Whitney has already tried this line of defense, naming the victim's former boyfriend as the perpetrator of this crime. A jury convicted Mr. Kelleher of these crimes, not Mr. Miller." Abbie Carmichael drew herself to her feet, tired of having to retread this again; Caroline Whitney had no other defense for her stepfather than alleging that Mark had actually instigated the crime. It had been tedious at trial, and Abbie knew the judge was beginning to think the same. 

"Objection sustained. Miss Whitney, if you want to try that line again, try it in appeals. For now, finish your statement, as the defendant's stepdaughter, and not counsel. Are we clear?" 

"I apologize, Your Honor." Caroline cleared her throat and continued to address the court. "He deserves treatment, not punitive measures. My sisters would have you believe he is a predator, a monster, a demon. I've never seen that side of him," Caroline confessed. "And it's difficult for me to believe he is capable of these things. He has supported all of us, financially and emotionally, since my mother left my father. Peter provided Emma and Alexandra a good home, a stellar education. And this is how you repay us?" Caroline turned and stared more openly at her sisters for a moment, meeting only determined Cabot faces in the process. "I would have the court take into consideration the fact that this is Mr. Kelleher's first offense in New York, and the fact that he is an upstanding citizen in all other regards. He is not a danger to the community, and deserves help. Thank you." 

The judge nodded, motioning to Victoria Kelleher. "Mrs. Kelleher?" 

Victoria strode to the podium, rearranging her papers. "I have been married to Peter Kelleher for almost twenty-five years. I know him better than anyone on this Earth, Your Honor. I have seen him…act out of character in regards to other family members. But I have never seen him lay a finger on my daughters, and I cannot corroborate either Emma's or Alexandra's stories. Mainly, I wanted to plead with the court today not to tear the remainder of my family apart. Peter's all I really have left in this world. Please don't take him away from me." Victoria wiped at her eyes with a Kleenex, causing Emma to make a soft gagging noise. "Thank you." As Victoria went back to her seat, Alex looked at Emma and rolled her eyes. 

"ADA Cabot, you're next." 

Alex squeezed Emma's hand and slid past Olivia. She had her statement completely memorized, and would take the opportunity to stare her stepfather down. First, she looked the judge straight in the eye. "I have to apologize for my mother and sister, Your Honor. You see, it's difficult for them to change their way of thinking after living the past twenty years in denial. But unlike them, I will never forget the impact Peter Kelleher has made on my life. He's the reason I became a prosecutor; after he got away with abusing Emma for years, I couldn't stand the injustice, and I took it upon myself to put demons and scum like him away for the rest of their lives. Peter Kelleher is not a sick man, as Caroline and Victoria would have you believe. No," she paused, shaking her head. "In order to be a sick man, he would have to be a man." Alex cleared her throat before continuing. "I will despise you, Peter Kelleher, every day. Every minute, of every day of the rest of my life, no matter where I go, or who I meet, I will loathe your existence, and pray for the day you take your last breath." She looked back at the judge. "Your Honor, nothing you can do will bring back the years my sister and I have wasted being afraid of this man, and you won't erase what he did to her from our minds. But I stand before you today not as an ADA, or an officer of the court, but as a sister, who desperately needs her peace of mind back. I urge you to impose the maximum sentence. Thank you." 

The judge nodded. "Thank you, ADA Cabot." He waited until Alex returned to her seat, and motioned for Emma to come forward. "Miss Cabot?" 

Emma took a deep breath, squeezing both her sister's and Olivia's hands as she passed. She stared at her prepared statement for a moment, and then looked at the judge. "I had something prepared, but if it's all right with you, Your Honor, I'd like to wing it." 

The judge nodded. "Go ahead, Miss Cabot." 

Emma smiled thinly. "This statement was prepared out of anger, and hatred. I was ready to explain again the details behind the seven years of sexual and physical abuse I endured at his hand, and the endless hours of torture he put me through on that boat. But frankly, I don't want to relive it again. I see it every night in my nightmares. I see it every time I look deep into Alexandra's eyes. I'm tired of being the victim. I'm a survivor, damn it. I survived the man who promised to love, honor, and protect my mother and her family betraying that promise every time he came into my bedroom. I survived my mother being a completely incompetent human being. I survived my eldest sister's betrayal and denial; a betrayal that got her own little girl molested. Nothing you could ever do or say, Your Honor, could ever make me feel this strong. Don't get me wrong, I want him to rot in jail so I can dance a jig on his grave, but…" Emma paused, and looked her stepfather straight in the face. "You lose, Peter. You don't get to own me anymore. I win. I survived you, and now I know I can survive anything. I will never forgive you for what you've done to me. Never. And I certainly will never forget. But as soon as you walk through those doors today, I will forget **you**. I will go and live my life, and love my life. I will love Alexandra, and one day, I will love my husband, and my children. I will have the life you threw away because you couldn't keep it in your pants. **That** is my vengeance." She turned back to the bench. "Your Honor, I too would request you put this man away for the rest of his natural life. If not to compensate me for my lifetime of torture, then to protect my niece Kirsten, and all of the other young girls out there. Thank you." 

"Thank you, Miss Cabot. You may be seated." Judge Winters waited until Emma was seated again before he continued. "I have discretion on this sentence, based on my interpretation of the seriousness of the crime. The minimum sentence I could impose would be fifteen years; the maximum, life. I have weighed the testimony during trial, and here in the penalty phase, and I am ready to render my verdict. Will the defendant please rise?" 

Peter and Caroline rose together, and Peter risked a look behind him at Emma and Alexandra. The sisters returned a patented glare, and Peter turned around. 

"Peter John Kelleher, you have been convicted by a jury on the following charges: one count of kidnapping in the first degree, one count of rape in the first degree, one count of conspiracy in the first degree, one count of unlawful imprisonment in the first degree, one count of assault of a police officer in the first degree, and one count of attempted murder in the first degree. The maximum allowable sentence is three life terms, plus forty-five years in prison. I hereby sentence you to the maximum allowable sentence. Under this sentence, you are ineligible for parole. Bailiff, please take the prisoner into custody. I declare the case of State v. Kelleher closed. We are adjourned." 

At the banging of the gavel, Alex turned and hugged Emma tightly. "Way to go, kiddo." 

Emma smiled victoriously. "Let's get outta this dump." 

After the sentence was handed down, Olivia stood and made her way inconspicuously into the hall. Offering Abbie Carmichael her congratulations on a case well-tried, she gave Alex and Emma a wave as they passed her in the hall. 

Emma stopped and turned back to Olivia. Taking her hand, she said softly, "I don't think it's melodramatic in the least to say I owe you my life. I can't bring myself to think what would have happened if you hadn't realized..." Emma stopped and took a short breath. "Anyway, I wanted to say thank you. For finding me, and for taking care of Alex while I was gone." 

Unable to respond in any way that mattered, Olivia nodded. "You're welcome," she said, her dusky voice catching at the end. "I wish we could've met under better circumstances, but it was nice to meet you, anyway." 

Emma nodded, then motioned to the waiting Alexandra and Cragen. "Listen, we're gonna grab some brunch or something. Why don't you join us before you go back to work?" 

"No," Olivia declined gently. "It's not my place. You guys enjoy yourselves." 

"You sure? I'd really like you there." 

"I—" Olivia started to argue with Emma, then thought it would be as fruitless as fighting her sister. "Are you sure?" 

Emma nodded enthusiastically. "Absolutely." She lowered her voice. "I'd kind of like to talk to you about some...stuff...that I'm not really comfortable talking to Alex about. I'm totally springing this on you, I know, but..." Emma tugged on Olivia's hand, her impish five-year-old streak showing through. "Come on. Waffles on me." 

The somber detective had to grin at the younger woman's enthusiasm for breakfast foods. "Okay, I'm coming." 

Abbie followed them a few feet, calling out to Alex. "Oh, ADA Cabot?" she used the woman's formal title. 

Alex turned, excusing herself from Cragen. "Yes, ADA Carmichael?" 

"It was a pleasure working with you." The tiny brunette attorney looked up at her polar opposite. "If you ever get bored in Westchester, you'll be welcome in Manhattan." 

Alex extended her hand, touched. "Thank you," she said sincerely. Looking back at Emma, free at last, laughing with Olivia and Cragen, she couldn't help but smile. "I may just take you up on that, Miss Carmichael. Anyway," she let go of the brunette's hand, "We're heading to brunch. Can I interest you in joining us?" 

Abbie smiled. "Thanks, but I have an arraignment. Best of luck." 

"Thank you." Alex watched as Abbie passed, embracing Emma one final time, before she rejoined the group. "Ready?" she asked, and Emma nodded. 

They were making their way out of the courthouse when Emma stopped in her tracks. Alex looked down the corridor, and instinctively grabbed her sister's hand. Caroline turned to her left and met her younger sisters' eyes, lifting her chin and returning an icy stare. 

Emma inhaled deeply, setting her mouth. "I'll be right back, okay?" 

"Em, are you sure..." Cragen stopped his sentence as Emma walked to her older sister. 

"I have nothing to say to you, Emma Katherine," Caroline said, pulling her coat more tightly around her. 

"I have everything to say to you, Caroline Victoria, so you just better shut up and listen." Emma and Caroline were the same height, and Emma had every intention of using it to her full advantage. "There are parts of me that can pretend to understand why you are the way you are. I mean, you lived with Daddy in Atlanta all those years, so you couldn't have known what was happening in that house in Connecticut all that time. But to call me a liar, to humiliate me on the stand the way you did..." Emma shook her head. "There is no excuse for your conduct, Caroline. There is no excuse for you, and there is no excuse for you calling your own child a liar. Have you learned nothing from me? Have you learned **nothing** from my years of pain, and torment? I'm twenty-six and I still need a nightlight, for Christ's sake! I wake up in the middle of the night, crying and screaming. That's what you've sentenced Kirsten to. That's what you're defending. So do not stand there and call me a liar, Caroline, because the only liar I see here is you. You're lying to yourself that he's a good man, a righteous man." Emma's chin started to tremble. "I will pray for your soul. And I will pray for Kirsten. She'll need all the help she can get." The sisters kept eye contact for a minute before Emma stepped back. "You're just as guilty as he is." She turned on her heel and walked, head high and with determined steps, out of the building. 

Alex watched the interlude, and couldn't contain the smile on her face as her sister stood up for herself. As she passed Caroline, she desperately wanted to say something, something to serve as a topper to Emma's comment, but couldn't. Instead, she shook her head minutely, and followed Emma's path out onto the street, Cragen and Olivia in tow. 

Olivia turned, backing out of the courthouse as she watched Caroline Cabot-Whitney, abandoned in the middle of the hall, thinking that sometimes justice's aim was righteous and true.   
  


* * *  
  


The hotel restaurant was nearly deserted, typical for just after 11 on a Tuesday morning. The brunch rush wouldn't start for another half-hour, at least; Emma and Olivia had the place almost to themselves. The frosted glass pane, bearing 'The Silver Spoon', absorbed the reflection of the pair as they sat in silence, watching Alexandra and Cragen chatting on the sidewalk. 

Olivia let the silence linger, using the momentary peace to gather her thoughts into a cohesive unit. She saw Emma start to fidget, the girl's eyes still on the pair outside, and chose that moment to interrupt their mutual solitude. "Do you want to talk about it?" 

Emma blew some of the foam on her latte away from her mouth and took a sip of the coffee before responding. "Thanks for coming, Olivia. I know it must seem kind of strange, a vic and her sometimes overprotective sister asking you and your boss out to breakfast." 

"Not really." Olivia shrugged and reached for a croissant, tearing it into little pieces as they talked. "I just assumed it was kind of a thank-you." 

Emma nodded. "Well, it is. But I also have somewhat selfish reasons for inviting you." She looked outside at her sister, smiling wistfully as she saw Alexandra laugh for the first time in weeks. "There's a part of me that doesn't want to subject her to the gory details, you know? She's sacrificed so much to take care of me this past month, to deal with the nightmares and the aftermath of the whole thing. And yet there's a part of me that's still holding out on her, and resenting her because she'll never fully understand the hell my life has been." Emma looked back at Olivia, the wistful smile fading. "I hate to dump it on you, but you're the best place I can turn right now." 

Nodding slowly throughout Emma's explanation, Olivia understood immediately. "The same reason every time my partner asks if I'm good, I tell him I am," she said, only half-aware that she'd spoken aloud. "There are just some things they can't understand, no matter how much they may want to. And, if we're being honest," she added, chewing thoughtfully on a piece of croissant, "they don't really want to know. They're happy when we just nod and smile." Olivia tried to keep the bitter edge, which had no place being there, out of her voice. "Because to know about it would somehow imply that they should try to fix the unfixable." 

"I know she means well, and I know she would do anything for me. Hell, she hid me in her dorm room and risked her scholarship to get me out of that house in the first place." The sigh served as the obvious 'but' to the next statement. "I think she still sees me as that baby, that eight-year-old she couldn't save the first time. Believe me, there are days when I feel that small, but I'm twenty-six, Olivia. I'm sick of being treated with kid gloves." Emma took another sip of her coffee. "Am I supposed to mourn for the rest of my life? Or would it be callous to try and put all this shit behind me?" 

"Callous to who?" Olivia parried. "The man who abused you, yourself - the victim - or your sister? 'Cause I know she wants you to move on, for your own sake." Pausing, Olivia sipped at her coffee. "Have you told Alex that you feel like she's treating you like a baby? From what she's told me, it sounds like you've been playing that role." This last was spoken plainly and without rancor. 

Emma quirked her mouth, mulling Olivia's point. "Maybe her actions are a reaction to me," she amended, agreeing. "This time, I felt so much more violated; I think I just shut down. She probably thought that was her cue." She stole a bite from her sister's fruit plate before answering Olivia's first question. "My overwhelming feeling right now is that I just want to wash my hands of it. He's never getting out, and there's a good chance Caroline and my mother will never contact me again, and I just don't give a damn. I want to go back to my apartment, back to school, back to my life. I want Allie to go back to hers. Start over, you know?" Emma shrugged, the multiplicity of her thoughts starting to become overwhelming. "Allie told me you had a psych background. So, tell me, if I really wanted to do that, am I going to shut down again? Is not confronting it loudly now going to hurt me later?" 

Olivia answered without hesitation, her own voice as firm as she'd ever heard it. "Yes." Pausing a millisecond to let the word sink in, she continued, "I'm going to tell you something not many people know." Taking a steadying breath, Olivia admitted in a soft voice, "My father was a rapist. He raped my mother, and I was the result. I spent the first thirty years of my life doing everything I could to ignore that fact. I became a psych major to analyze other people. I became a cop to save other people. I became a detective to solve other people's problems. It wasn't until very recently that I started dealing with the reality." Olivia steadied her shaking hands on her coffee mug. "No matter how many people like you I save from monsters, my father will still be one." 

Emma's eyes widened and she moved her mouth, trying to form some kind of response. Finally, she settled on, "I'm sorry, Olivia. Alex didn't tell me." 

"She doesn't know," the detective replied softly. Her voice strengthened as she told Emma, "but my point is, you have to deal with reality as it happens. You can't put it off until tomorrow, or you'll get sacked one day with a giant buildup of denial. Then you either go with it, and become Caroline and your mom, or you fight it and you become a mess of neuroses." 

Emma chuckled despite the seriousness of the conversation. "So I'm stuck between a rock and a hard place, it seems." She took another sip of her coffee before asking, "What do you normally do to help your victims on the road to recovery? I mean, I'm still seeing my shrink three times a week. Is there anything else I can do?" 

"Yeah," Olivia began to contradict herself. "You can try to go back to your normal life, like you say you want. You just can't ignore what's happened to you - eighteen years ago or a month ago. And as much as I hate to say it, I think both you and Alex need to be apart for a while. The parental relationship you have going on isn't good for either of you. But then, I only have a B.A. in Psych, don't go by me." 

Emma giggled freely now. "It's better than my art degree." But she nodded in agreement. "I think you're right, though. In order to live my life, it has to be **my** life. And as much as I love seeing Alex here in the city - it just does something to her, you know? - she's already used all her sick leave and personal days. She needs to go home." 

Smiling at Emma's giggling, Olivia nodded. "This city brings out the best in a lot of people, but you're right. Alex has a job and a life in Westchester. She needs to focus on something other than you, and you need to focus on yourself." 

"I wish she had a life to go back to," Emma said lightly. "I keep telling her all work and no play makes Alexandra a dull girl." Emma held Olivia's gaze for a minute. "You know, this is the first time in a long time that I've had hope, that I knew there was a light at the end of the tunnel." 

"It's the headlamp of the oncoming train," Olivia deadpanned. 

Emma leaned back in her chair and groaned. "That makes me feel so much better." 

Alex came up behind her sister, squeezing her shoulder before sitting down. "Is there any particular reason you're making noises like a dying cow?" 

Emma winked at Olivia. "Nope. Where's Donald?" 

Alex motioned to the waitress, trying to get coffee of her own. "He had to run back to the office. But," she looked at Olivia, "he said you'd pull graveyard if you didn't stay and finish breakfast." 

Olivia simply grinned back at Emma as she replied to Alex. "He always threatens me with that, even though I told him my first day on the job that I'm a night person." She began dissecting another croissant, slathering it in blackberry jam. The detective's bearing had relaxed noticeably since her conversation with Emma. Looking at the younger woman, Olivia raised an eyebrow; she hoped it communicated her thoughts - 'Should I leave so you two can talk?' 

Emma shook her head, her eyes indicating she knew the conversation with Alex would happen later that evening, in the hotel. Instead, she snuck another piece of her sister's breakfast, cringing as Alex smacked her sneaky hand. She grinned as she popped the piece of cantaloupe into her mouth. "Share and share alike, Alexandra," she teased, wiping her mouth before rising from the table. "Excuse me," she said politely, moving towards the restrooms. 

Alexandra watched her go, then looked at Olivia with a surprised and grateful expression. "What did you say to her?" 

"That's protected by privilege," Olivia gave her a tiny, but genuine, smile. "But let's just say that I think Emma's going to do fine on her own. And if she needs a friend, she's got one." 

Alex smiled, teeth and all. She touched Olivia's hand briefly. "And you're a hell of a friend to have, Detective." 

Twenty-four intense hours, in which she and Alex had been inseparable, had made the past month unbearable for Olivia, who had missed very much the ADA's dry wit and easy friendship. After a month of nothing, the small contact was enough to make it hard for Olivia to breathe. "Glad you think so," was all she said. What she didn't say was that she felt keenly the loss of a friend who wasn't gone yet, and who had hardly been there to begin with. Olivia Benson wasn't much for making friends, and now that she had, she wondered if the feelings had always been so intense. 

Alexandra was startled as she found herself rubbing her thumb over Olivia's knuckles. "I definitely think so," she confirmed. Alex watched Olivia's dark eyes, thankful such a caring soul had found its way into healing her sister's heart. _But what about your heart, Alex?_ she thought. Sitting across from her was a woman who understood the pains and pressures of the job, and still had that killer smile at the end of the day. Alex was glad Emma had Olivia's friendship and support, but found herself wanting it as well. 

Surprised at the intimate gesture, Olivia felt her stomach start to twist itself up in tiny knots. "Like I told Emma, I wish you and I could've met under better circumstances, but I'm glad we got to meet at all. You're really...compelling," was the word she settled on. "You remind me of someone." Olivia's voice disappeared at the end of her sentence. She gave up, cleared her throat and tried not to stare too hard into the crystalline eyes meeting hers with such a knowing gaze. 

Alex cleared her own throat, wondering under what other kind of circumstances she would have seen the strength and compassion that was drawing her to Olivia. "You and I'll have to grab a cup of coffee if I come back to the city to see Em. Maybe we can discuss Jung or Adler next." 

"Yeah," Olivia agreed, noticing that their hands were still joined. Alex's hand over hers was so familiar. The fingers were longer and more delicate, but the grasp - firm, but gentle - was just the same as one she remembered. "Don't 'spose you like philosophy?" she teased, trying to keep up the lightened tone the conversation had taken. "A discussion about Sartre could keep us going through coffee, dinner **and** drinks." 

Alex chuckled, low in her throat. "For you, I'll brush up." She turned her head, and Olivia slid her hand away discreetly, as Emma cleared her throat from behind Alex. 

Emma quirked a slight eyebrow at her sister before sitting down, but said nothing. She put her cell phone on the table and said, "I just talked to Jess. She wants to take us out for a celebratory dinner tonight." 

Alex shook her head. "I know how you two get, and I need to drive in the morning." 

"Al, come on. Just dinner and a couple of drinks. Nothing extravagant." She looked at Olivia as she cupped Alex's face in her hand. "Olivia, doesn't this face look like one that needs to have a little fun?" 

Olivia held her hands up in protest. "I'm not getting between two Cabots. Do I look stupid to you?" she grinned. "But if I had to, I'd lean a little toward Emma's side, Alex. This has been one hell of a month," she said softly, her tone sympathetic. "Maybe you could use a night out." 

"Traitor," Alex replied, looking back at Emma's delighted eyes. "All right. But no dancing on the bar, Em." 

"I promise," Emma replied, grinning victoriously at Olivia. "Hey, you should come with us, Olivia." 

Olivia chuckled. "Nah, you'll be sick of me by then. I'm just gonna go home, open a nice bottle of Cabernet and relax." 

Emma shook her head. "Uh-uh, if Alex goes, you go." 

Alex put a hand on Emma's arm. "Em, let the woman have some peace. Lord knows with you knowing where she works, she won't get any more of it." 

Emma gave Alex the patented Cabot look. "Who's going to take care of you while I embarrass myself?" 

Alex took a sip of her coffee. "I'm sure I'll survive." 

Emma's blue eyes pleaded with Olivia. "She has this killer black dress; you have to see it to believe it." 

"Emma," Alex warned, an embarrassed blush on her face. 

Olivia's grin faded as her stomach tightened. By no means was she ready for this - 'this' being Alex in a little black dress. "I wish I could, Emma," and her tone revealed just how much she wished it, "I really should just go home." 

Both Cabot women noticed the tone change, and Emma looked between the wistfulness on Olivia's face and the twinge of disappointment on Alexandra's. "Okay," the younger Cabot replied. "If you change your mind, we'll be at Viva, on 150th and Broadway." 

"Thanks," Olivia said quietly. Downing the last of her coffee, she slid toward the edge of the booth. "I should get back to work." 

"Okay," Emma repeated, sighing. She rose, moving around the table to embrace Olivia. "Thanks for everything," she said softly. "Especially today." 

Her instinctual fear dissipated as Olivia hugged Emma back tightly. "Thank **you**," she murmured in reply. "It felt good to tell you all of that." Leaning back, she smiled tenderly at the young woman. "If you ever need someone to shine a flashlight in dark corners, I'm your cop," Olivia promised softly, slipping her business card into Emma's hand. "My home number's on there. Don't hesitate to call if you need anything at all." 

Emma clutched the card tightly. "I won't," she promised, moving aside. 

Alex stepped forward, a slight, hesitant smile on her face. She met Olivia's deep eyes, and shook her head, extending her hand. "It's been a pleasure, Olivia." 

Emma coughed. "Hug her." 

Olivia's head swiveled quickly to eye Emma. "Not everyone's as affectionate as you are," she said in an undertone meant only for Emma's ears. 

Alex read the daggers Olivia shot her sister, and laughed aloud, still holding onto Olivia's hand. "She's already got you pegged, Emma." 

Emma shrugged, raising her eyebrows at both women. Alexandra had told her in confidence how much she 'admired' Olivia, but Emma noted a tone in her voice and a look in her eyes as her sister described the detective, not seen in quite some time; not seen since her break-up with Donald. Emma wished her sister would open up to the detective; something told her they could be great friends. 

"Maybe she's right, though," Olivia said with a placating smile. "A hug wouldn't hurt." 

"No. It wouldn't." Alex stepped forward, slipping her arms around Olivia's waist and resting her chin on the brunette's shoulder. 

"Thanks, Liv." 

No one but Elliot called Olivia 'Liv' - not since Jacob, that is. The sound of her nickname on Alex's tongue was at once disturbing and welcomed. "Not a problem," she tried to toss the reply off nonchalantly, hugging the blonde quickly and releasing her just as fast. 

Alex stepped back, slinging an arm around Emma's shoulders. "Feel free to throw her in jail if she bothers you too much."

Emma pretended to elbow her sister in the ribs, but nodded solemnly once more at Olivia. "You know where I live, so keep in touch, okay?" 

"And you know where I work - just don't come see me on official business," Olivia warned in mock-seriousness. "Be safe." She turned to leave the restaurant, glancing back once at the sisters. 

Alex raised her hands in a good-bye gesture, and watched Olivia walk down the street. She sat down where Olivia had been, reaching across the table and grabbing her coffee before regarding her sister. "Subtle, Em." 

Emma shrugged, giving Alexandra a prim look. "I have no idea what you're talking about."   
  


* * *  
  


Emma lingered in the hotel room, watching her sister's precise folding and packing with an intrigued expression. "Honey, have you ever considered a diagnosis of OCD for yourself?" 

Alex shot her the Cabot Look over her suitcase. Shaking her head, she motioned to the piles of clothes teetering behind her sister. "You have to be out of here by twelve, Em. You better move." 

"Are you sure you can't at least drop me off at my place on your way out?" Emma pleaded, and Alex shook her head. 

"Your place is the complete opposite way of where I have to go. Besides, I need to be back for a continuance by two. Can Mark or Jess help?" 

Emma shook her head. "They're both working. I'll just call a cab." 

"'Kay." Alex went back to her toiletries, as Emma wandered back into the connecting room. She started gathering the stuff on the bedside table into a pile, and noticed a small piece of paper slip out on to the floor. She picked it up, and smiled as the proverbial light bulb went on over her head. She reached for the phone, dialing with one finger as she stuffed her pile into her bag. 

"Benson," Olivia answered breathlessly. She stilled the punching bag with one hand, catching the phone between her ear and shoulder. 

"Hey, it's Emma," the blonde replied, adding a small "Eek!" as her pile of clothes finally teetered into oblivion. 

Olivia's senses went into overdrive, listening for any catch or tone to the girl's voice that would indicate distress. "What's up?" 

"Well, I was wondering if you had a couple of hours and were feeling generous with your time and company vehicle." 

Relaxing, Olivia sighed softly. "I guess so, whatcha need?" 

"Alex is leaving here pretty much as we speak, and I need a couple of extra hands to help me get my place back in shape. Mark and Jess are working..." Emma sat on the edge of the bed. "I know it's a complete waste of your time, but I'd really appreciate the help, Olivia." 

"It's my day off, anyway," Olivia said, already shrugging out of her sweat-stained t-shirt. "Give me about half an hour to shower and get there." 

"You rock," Emma replied gratefully. "Thank you so much." 

"You owe me a beer - or three," Olivia joked. "See you in thirty." She hung up and headed for the shower. 

"Nice." Emma hung up the phone and started stuffing her things into her own bags. 

Alex hoisted her computer bag into the back of the SUV, and closed the hatch. She looked around for her purse and sighed as she realized it was still up in her room. She walked through the foyer and rapped on Emma's door. Emma threw the door open, going back to her suitcases quickly. 

Alex shook her head and picked up her purse from the other room, doing another cursory check. "I think I'm almost ready, Em." 

"Aw," Emma replied, moving around the bed and giving her sister a hug. "I'm gonna miss you, Allie." 

Alex smiled, soothing her sister's hair. "I'll miss you, too, kid. But then ten minutes'll pass, and we'll be doing our dance of freedom." 

Emma chuckled, putting her hands on Alex's cheeks. "Love you." 

"Love you, too." Alex put her purse over her shoulder, heading towards the door. 

Raising her hand to knock, Olivia reared back as Alex opened the door. "Oh. Hi." 

Alex took a surprised step back. "Hey." She looked over her shoulder at Emma, who had hurriedly returned to packing. "Don't tell me you called one of New York's finest to help you stuff dirty underwear in a bag." 

Emma held up her hands. "It's her day off!" 

Alex shook her head and stepped aside, allowing Olivia to pass. "Don't do all of the work for her," she warned, dodging a sock being thrown at her head. 

"I'm just here to direct traffic," Olivia tossed back. "You leaving?" she asked, reaching for an empty duffel. 

Alex nodded. "Yeah. I have to be back for a hearing this afternoon." 

Emma plopped one of her duffels by the door. "Olivia, would you mind taking that out to your car? That way, the front desk knows we're on our way out and they won't charge us any late fees, God willing." 

"Sure." Olivia slung it over her shoulder. "Gimme another one so I don't waste a trip." 

Emma handed her a smaller bag, leaving Alex laughing and shaking her head. "Sometimes I think we may want my OCD to rub off on you, Em." 

"Get out of here before I do something Olivia'll have to arrest me for," Emma retorted. 

"Love you, too, sis," Alex replied, holding the door open for Olivia as the detective backed into the hallway with her sister's stuff. "It's really sweet of you spending your day off hauling my sister's shit around, Olivia," Alex commented dryly as they waited for the elevator. 

"She's a good kid. I do what I can to help." The elevator doors opened and Olivia stepped in, her heart racing. Just seeing Alex, on her way out of Olivia's life, was enough to make the detective cringe. 

Alex smiled. "I have a feeling you're going to be a good influence on her." She chuckled as they continually referenced Emma as much younger than her twenty-six years, when in fact, she had been through more than a lifetime of pain. Alex unlocked her car, throwing her purse onto the passenger seat. She turned to Olivia, handing her a business card. "Those are my office and cell numbers. You know, in case Emma ever goes unconscious or something and you need to get me." 

Olivia acknowledged the card with a nod, tucking it into her back pocket. "Okay. Well, have a safe trip." 

"Will do." Alex hesitated just a second, before reaching out and squeezing Olivia's hand, remembering the detective's uneasiness at their previous embrace. "Take care." 

"You, too." Feeling awkward, Olivia leaned over to hug Alex anyway. 

Alex embraced Olivia easily, but the comedy of errors that followed would not live in their memories with the same ease. Somehow, Alex's head turned to the right just as Olivia turned her own the same way, and their lips met. 

Olivia's first instinct was to pull away, but the spark between her and Alex overcame her better judgment. Wrapping her arms around Alex's waist, Olivia tilted her head more to the right, deepening the kiss. 

Her head buzzing, Alex found her arms folding themselves around Olivia's neck, and her mouth opening ever so slightly under the pressure of Olivia's lips on hers. 

Every inch of her tingling with excitement, Olivia parted Alex's lips, grazing her tongue over the lower lip.

Moaning, Alex caught Olivia's tongue with her own and teased it, running her hand up and down the back of Olivia's shirt. 

Wanting nothing more than to push Alex up against the car and kiss her senseless, Olivia forced herself to pull away, tilting her head up half an inch to meet Alex's spectacularly blue eyes. She couldn't speak for a moment, tenderly running her fingers through the attorney's hair. Her eyes were a brighter brown than they'd been in years. 

Alex expelled a surprised breath before smiling at Olivia, resting her hand on the detective's hip. "Well," she began half-breathlessly, not surprised when she faltered at what to say next. 

"Yeah." Olivia started to chuckle softly, cupping Alex's face with one hand. "Guess we're officially friends now, huh?" 

Alex laughed, almost giggling. She smiled wider, nodding. "I'm thinking that's a yes." She placed her hand over Olivia's, squeezing lightly. "I hate to do this...but I have to go." The disappointment in her voice was evident, and welcome. 

"Yeah," Olivia said, her heart sinking. Her hand fell to her side and the brunette nodded slowly, not letting her disappointment show. "Yeah, you do," she said, as Alex climbed reluctantly into the driver's seat.

"Yeah," Alex repeated. For such a well-versed woman, there was something about Olivia Benson that had her talking in circles. She touched Olivia's hand again, leaning back in slightly and kissing her cheek. "Bye." 

Alexandra's inner desire of "Don't go! Don't go! Don't go!" was being expelled in a high - but unheard from the ground - screech, five floors above, as Emma watched from the window, bouncing in anticipation. "Get out of the car, Allie. Come on, damn you." 

Alex hesitated, but started the car, rolling down her window. "If you don't call me, I'll make sure Emma makes your life an even bigger living hell," she warned with a grin. 

Olivia managed a weak grin, waving silently as Alex pulled away. Turning, she was quick enough to catch a glimpse of familiar blonde hair disappearing from the window. 

Alex watched Olivia's form get smaller in the rearview mirror as she pulled into traffic, and she sighed heavily. She placed a hand on her tumultuous stomach, her emotions so thwarted and jumbled that she nearly missed her exit. 

In her hotel room, Emma sighed, resting her forehead against the glass before springing back into packing, after watching Olivia load her bags into the car. She hurriedly stuffed the rest of her clothes into the remaining bags and put on what she hoped was an innocent smile as Olivia reentered the room. "I'm done, I think." 

"You're something," Olivia murmured, grabbing a suitcase and an overnight bag. 

"What?" Emma slid into her sandals.

"A voyeur," was all Olivia murmured as they headed down to her car. 

"I'm not apologizing," Emma retorted, slinging the last of her bags on top of the pile in Olivia's trunk. "I'm happy, though," she finished quietly, not sure how to read the detective. Her sister was a piece of cake; Olivia was much more of a challenge. 

Olivia turned an eye on Emma, eyebrow sky high. "You expected that?" she asked, shutting the trunk. 

"Well, I don't think 'expected' is necessarily the right word. There was just something in the way you two looked at each other that got me thinking. And when Alex talked about you...well, it was pretty obvious." Emma smiled tightly, hoping she wasn't saying too much. At least, not enough that Alex would find out and beat her to a bloody pulp. 

"Is she...." Olivia trailed off, climbing into the driver's seat. The word had never tricked her before, why should it now? "Is she gay?" 

Emma shook her head. "I don't think she sees herself that way. Most other people would call her bisexual, I guess. She's had both boyfriends and girlfriends." 

Nodding slowly, Olivia started to grin as they started off in the general direction of NYU. "I guess you'd say I'm gay," she admitted softly, "although I've yet to...well, whatever." 

Emma nodded understandingly. "I think you fall for who you fall for, end of story. And personally, I think you and Al would be amazing together. I would love to hear your dinner conversation sometime. But no pressure," she added hurriedly, winking. 

Laughing, Olivia shook her head. "No pressure." 

Emma chuckled, leaning back against the headrest. "It's so nice to be getting out of that wretched hotel and back into my own bed. And it's nice that I want to." 

Olivia agreed silently, turning onto a side street for a shortcut. 

"I won't tell Alex anything," Emma offered, just in case Olivia was feeling any kind of post-admission guilt. "Everything you tell me is in confidence, always." 

"Oh, I know," Olivia said with a smile, glancing over at Emma before returning her eyes to the road. "I trust you. It's just...I don't know what I'm thinking right now." 

"Ah," Emma replied. "You want me to shut up? I can't promise anything, but I can try." 

"Nope. Keep talkin'." 

Emma chuckled. "What do you want me to talk about? You need to narrow it down for me. My head tends to explode when I have too much stimulation." 

"Uh....vitamins," Olivia chose randomly. 

"Vitamins?" Emma repeated, nearly bursting into hysterics. "Well, I still take my Flintstone ones, because they're funnier; a habit from childhood. Alexandra used to mash them up with the phone or TV remote, trying to see how they worked. I tended to dump out the entire bottle so all the characters could have conversations with each other." 

Olivia did burst out laughing. "I was kidding. Tell me more about when Alex was a kid." 

"God, the stories I could tell..." Emma bit her lip in thoughtfulness. "She was a champion equestrian; I think all of her trophies and ribbons are still in the attic at the house. She always had her serious side, and I remember always running around trying to make her laugh. She turned into a beauty in high school...tall, lean, blonde. The envy of every girl there, and she didn't have a clue. She was always classically understated. I mean, she had her wild days, but they happened more in college, and after I started school on my own." Emma hummed softly, reliving the happier times of their lives. "She's a hell of a photographer, you know." 

"Really?" Olivia tried to picture statuesque Alexandra Cabot behind a camera. 

"Oh, God, yeah. Black and white, mostly, and more landscapes than anything else. She and I used to drive to New Hampshire from wherever we were - I was at Boston College, and she was finishing up at Brown for undergrad - just in time for the first snow. She always called it her 'reconnecting' time." Emma smiled. "There's this great shot that I actually got of her not too long ago. We went skiing in Vermont, and I stole the camera. She was sitting by the fire, in this black turtleneck, and her hair was down. It's got a natural wave to it, and it's really evident when she lets her hair air dry. Anyway, I stole the camera and told her a penis joke. She started laughing, still looking at whatever she was reading, and I took the picture. It's on my desk at home." 

Olivia smiled wistfully. "She's gorgeous. I mean," she blushed, "that sounds gorgeous." 

"It is. You'll have to come up and see it. If you want to, anyway." Emma smiled. "I think it's the eyes more than anything." 

"I'll agree with that," Olivia said quietly. "You have the same eyes," she added, a bit louder. 

Emma smiled again. "Don't I wish. No, mine are darker, with a greener edge. Hers are freakishly clear, and they go grey when she's pissed off. Why she hides them behind those glasses, I'll never understand."

Olivia corrected Emma quickly. "I don't mean the color," she said. "It's all about the power. You Cabot girls, even the unmentionable one...you have these killer eyes. One look, and the person you're staring down doesn't stand a chance. As for the glasses, well, if you don't have a girls-in-gold-rims fetish, you wouldn't understand." A slight shiver ran up Olivia's spine. 

"Would you mind if I told Alex that? I think she'd appreciate it. I certainly do." Emma chuckled and looked at Olivia. "You have some serious eyes of your own, missy." 

Shaking her head quickly, Olivia ignored the compliment. "You can tell Alex that. Just make sure you quote me." 

Emma nodded with an even bigger smile. "You got it." She paused for a minute, fishing a bottle of water out of her bag. "I talked to her last night, about what you and I talked about." 

"Which part?" Olivia pulled into the main entrance of NYU. "And where do I go?" 

Emma pointed further down the street. "I'm actually off-campus. Just keep going straight for about seven blocks." She looked for her keys as she answered Olivia's first question. "The whole 'babying' thing. You were right; I was giving her the signals that I needed constant care. But we're good now, back to living our lives, but also appreciating our relationship again."

"Good. I'm glad it worked out." 

"Thanks. It's the brick building, there on the right." Emma directed Olivia to the front of her apartment, thankful that one of the spots in front of the door was open. "Welcome to Cheapo Cabot. Alexandra's place gets the 'Chez' title." 

"That's okay. Mine'd be 'Benson's Bathroom'." Olivia grinned, putting the car in park and climbing out.

Emma chuckled again, grabbing her bag. She hoisted a duffel bag on each shoulder, grunting as she made her way up the steps and unlocked the front door. 

Olivia followed, managing to heft four bags at once, her face turning red. "Go...open door...quick," she panted. 

Emma held the elevator door open with her hip, allowing Olivia to pass. They ascended to the seventh floor. Luckily for both women, Emma and Jessica's apartment was next to the elevator. Emma slipped the key in the lock and laid one of the duffels against the door. She moved into the living room, dumping the other bag and reaching for one to take from Olivia. "Cheapo Cabot, at your service." 

"Thank God." Olivia dropped the bags in a heap, sighing in relief. "You have too much crap, Miss Emma." 

"Jess pretty much emptied my closet when I asked her to bring me some stuff. And then Alex and I did some retail therapy. This is the result." Emma stepped out of the pile of bags at her feet and motioned to the small kitchen. "You want that beer now?" 

"I'd love to, but I have to get going. I have a workout to finish." 

Emma nodded, hugging Olivia briefly. "Thanks so much for everything. You really went above and beyond." 

"Not a problem." Olivia hugged her back. "When you talk to Alex, tell her I said hi." 

"You got it." Emma replied, kicking the bag holding the door out of the way, and holding it open with her hand. "She'll be in the office later, you know." 

"Yeah, I don't wanna bother her, so just...yeah." Olivia grinned sheepishly. "Catch you later, Em." 

"Bye." Emma watched the brunette disappear into the elevator and closed her apartment door with a sigh. She contemplated the pile of stuff on her carpet, and idly wondered if she could pass it off as the neo-shabby chic movement.   
  


* * *  
  


Her blonde hair fell loosely around her shoulders, barely brushing against the black of her blazer. She readjusted her attaché over her shoulder, straightening the white shell underneath. She wasn't quite sure why she had butterflies; she was a Cabot, and Cabots never admitted to having butterflies. But it had been a long time since she'd been in either a courtroom or a police squad room, and she had forgotten about the niggle of uncomfortable that flowed slowly though her. As she stepped through the doors to the SVU, however, she relaxed, and couldn't contain a slight smile. 

"Emma!" Elliot's voice was surprised, but warm, as he made his way over to greet her. "Are you all right?"

Emma couldn't help but laugh. "No, no, I'm fine. I'm actually here to have lunch with Cragen." 

Elliot nodded. "How are things?" 

"Good. I graduate with my Master's next week, and start full-time at a design firm on Fifth after that, so I'm pretty busy." 

"Good for you," Elliot replied. "I'll let you get to your lunch." 

Emma smiled warmly. "Thanks, Elliot." She continued down through the row of desks, pausing to smile at Munch and Cassidy, and looking around for an apparently-absent Olivia. She continued to Donald's office, knocking softly as she saw he was on the phone. Through the Venetian blinds, he motioned her to enter. "Hang on, okay?" He put the phone down and looked at Emma. "I'm running late," he offered as explanation. 

"I see that," Emma replied with a chuckle. "Reschedule?" 

"Hell no. Just give me ten, okay?" 

"Sure." Emma left the office, Donald's sharp tone towards the flunkies at OPP lingering behind her. She amused herself with the pictures hanging against the far wall of the squad room, reading letters of commendation while biding her time. 

Fairly stomping into the squad room, Olivia threw her blazer over the back of her chair. "Goddamn territorial beat cops," she growled at Elliot in greeting. "Can't even—" she cut herself off, catching a glimpse of blonde hair out of the corner of her eye. Turning, her entire mood softened, her shoulders relaxing immediately. Without waiting for an invitation, Olivia crossed the room, slipping up soundlessly behind the statuesque, suit-clad woman. Her hands immediately slid into her pockets, the one physical sign that the formidable detective was less than sure of her reception. "Long time no see, Ms. Cabot," Olivia said, her voice a mix of tenderness and nervousness. 

"A bit too long, depending on which sister you ask." Emma turned, her smile gentle but sincere. "How are you?" 

Surprise flickered across Olivia's unguarded face, replaced immediately by a genuine smile. "I'm good. How are you?" Her head tilted one side, Olivia's tone slipped into gentle inquisition. 

Emma's smile widened. "I'm great. Things are...well, great." She chuckled at herself, tucking a strand of blonde behind her ear. "Donald told me about your work on the Sampson case. Very impressive, Detective Benson. Alex thought so, too." It was a dirty trick, a cheap one, dipping into the lone malicious bone Emma Cabot had in her body, bringing up her sister in passing conversation. But according to Alexandra, there had been no contact between the women since that emotionally fateful day in the parking lot six months earlier, save for a few brief emails immediately after Alex returned to Westchester. When her sister let her guard down and inquired about life in the city - namely Donald and Olivia - Emma heard something in her sister's voice she couldn't pinpoint; she likened it to a combination of longing and regret. Always the curious matchmaker, Emma was dying to know Olivia's side. 

"Thanks." Was that regret in Olivia's tone? She banished it immediately, pasting on a hopeful expression. "How's your sister doing?" 

"She's very well, thank you." Emma replied, searching Olivia's brown eyes. "She got a bit of a promotion, and is now working more felony cases. She loves it. It's tough, though - less time for friends and sisters." 

"I'm sorry," Olivia said, her eyes betraying nothing of the confusion going on inside her head. "Glad to hear she's doing well, though. I, uhm...I've been meaning to call, you know. Both of you. I just get busy." _Lame,_ Olivia told herself. _They both know you're scared shitless._

"We understand," Emma smiled sympathetically. "Well, maybe Allie does. I, on the other hand, would have come down here and beat you for not calling me, but then I remembered you have a gun and are a hell of a lot stronger than I am. So I just glared in your general direction." 

Olivia grinned, relaxing a little. "I felt it," she assured Emma. "So maybe we can go for coffee sometime, you and I?" the detective suggested. "We can catch up." _You can tell me more of what I missed while I was busy being a complete jackass._

"Absolutely," Emma agreed immediately. She dug into her attaché and handed Olivia a business card. "That's where you can find me during the day, except on Fridays. Give me a call, or I'll keep glaring," she warned with a grin. She turned as Donald emerged from his office, placing a fatherly hand on her back. "Sushi?" she asked hopefully, laughing as Donald shot her a look she was sure Alexandra had taught him. 

"Deli," he corrected, and Emma laughed. "It was really good seeing you, Olivia," she said, extending her hand. 

"You, too." Olivia ignored the hand and leaned over, hugging Emma quickly. "I'm proud of you," she murmured in the woman's ear. Pulling away, Olivia smiled at her boss. "Have fun." 

The hug was brief, but Emma held Olivia tightly, her eyes bright as the detective pulled away. "Thanks," she replied quietly, silently pleading for the woman to call her sister. 

Cragen nodded at Olivia, guiding Emma outside. "That was...interesting," he started. 

Emma simply shook her head and shrugged. "What can I say? I'm an interesting person." 

"You're also full of crap," Cragen said, as they reached the deli, just a block from his office. He held the door for Emma, shaking his head in silent amusement at her Cabot matchmaking gene, once again at work. He recalled a certain blonde former romantic partner, who'd come to his attention, courtesy of the littlest Cabot. 

"Please," Emma scoffed after ordering her lunch, a playful grin still teasing her eyes. "I just call it like I see it. You know that." 

"Last time you called it that way, Em..." Cragen trailed off, trying to figure out why it would be a bad thing for Emma to pursue her sister's happiness. So it hadn't worked out for Alex and him - that didn't necessarily mean anything; they were still as close as they'd ever been. "You know what?" Cragen shrugged. "Go for it." 

"Yeah?" Emma regarded him carefully. "You know I'm only doing this to tide Alex over until you come to your senses," she kidded, patting his hand lightly. 

Shaking his head, Cragen caught Emma's hand and squeezed it. "You know I love your sister," he said quietly, his voice serious, "but I'm not right for her." 

Emma nodded. "I know," she replied, just as quietly. "And I also know she loved you more than anything - including me." She winked at him. "I knew there was a reason I didn't like you." 

Laughing softly, Cragen reached for his sandwich, which had just been delivered. "I know," he said, taking a bite. Continuing after a moment, the captain added, "I never could compete with Sandra's memory, though." 

Emma clucked her tongue, taking a bite of her own lunch. "May she rest in peace," she murmured. "You were so good for her, though. You brought her back to a place I fought two years to get her to. I'll always love you for that - and I know she will, too." She offered another smile, munching on her French fries. "I guess it's a good thing Alex and Olivia are scared of each other and relationships. It'd be so weird for you." 

"Probably," he agreed, attacking his chips with fervor. "But Alex's in Westchester, so it's not like I'd have to see 'em every day. And ultimately, I want her to be happy." 

"She didn't tell you?" The words were out of Emma's mouth before she could consider stopping them. 

"Tell me what?" Cragen fixed his interrogation stare on Emma. 

"She got a call from Abbie Carmichael last week, offering her the position of SVU-adjunct ADA." Emma took a sip of her soda. "Alex is moving to the city."

THE END


	4. Falter

"This is Alexandra Cabot." Alex's brow crinkled as she heard rustling on the other end of the phone, rather than a human response. "Hello?" 

Emma untangled the garland from the receiver. "Hi!" she chirped, hanging another candy cane on her Christmas tree. 

Alex smiled, abandoning her brief momentarily. "Hey, you. What's up?" 

"My Christmas tree!" Emma replied, sinking on her couch. "Have you gotten yours yet?" 

Alex laughed. "Yeah, among all the boxes stands my little three foot fake tree, still on a tilt from its box. I'd make Charlie Brown proud." 

"You'd kill anything else," Emma pointed out. "What time are you getting here tomorrow?" 

Alex grimaced. "Em, I can't. I'm sorry." 

"What?" Emma cried. "Alex, you promised. I told you about this a month ago!" 

"I know, I know. But court is in session until the 23rd, sweetheart, and I have to finish up all pending cases before I leave the jurisdiction. I'm still driving in the morning of the 24th, though." 

Alexandra's attempt at a placating tone failed, evidenced by Emma's whining disappointment. Her younger sister sighed before saying, "And you swear on David Boreanaz's butt you honestly can't get out of it?" 

"Who's that?" 

"He plays 'Angel' on TV. Oh, that's right, your idea of a relaxing evening at home is reading the new Supreme Court decisions, rather than examining the delicious rear ends of television stars. I forgot." 

Alex chuckled. "I swear on Chief Justice Rehnquist's head that I can't get out of this. I'm sorry, Em. I really am. But we'll have an amazing Christmas, we'll go to the mountains for New Year's, and then I'll be a twenty-minute cab ride from you. You'll wish I had stayed in Westchester before you know it." 

Emma's light laugh let Alex know the fact that she was missing her sister's long-touted "Annual Christmas Blowout" would be forgiven and forgotten. "Somehow, I doubt that, Allie. You and me in the same city, plus your relocation bonus, equals beaucoup de shopping." 

Alex laughed, straightening in her chair as her clerk entered the office. "Listen, Em, I have to run. I'm due in court in ten. I'll call you after the party tomorrow, okay?" 

"'Kay. See you on Christmas Eve." 

"With bells on." Alex grabbed her jacket, balancing the phone between her ear and the crook of her neck. 

"And presents," Emma replied, laughing as her sister hung up with a chuckle. She chucked the receiver on her couch and put her hands on her hips, sighing. "What am I going to do with an extra place, Louie?" Her tabby - an early Christmas present from boyfriend Mark -  looked at her with lazy eyes, before turning over and going back to sleep. She paced around the apartment, pulling out her date book, flipping through the addresses and phone numbers. Emma stopped as her eyes scanned the second page, biting her lip in thought. She grabbed the phone again and dialed, saying, "Enh, what the hell?" 

"Detective Benson." Olivia answered the phone with the same distracted-yet-cheerful tone Alexandra had. 

"Hi, Olivia!" Emma's cheerfulness scared Louie off the couch. "Happy holidays." 

Olivia replied, "Happy holidays, Em," a grin crossing her mouth quickly. "What's up?" 

Emma unwrapped another candy cane and popped part of it into her mouth. "Oh, nothing much. Getting ready for the annual Cabot Christmas blowout. Speaking of which, I was wondering what you were doing tomorrow night." 

Hesitating, Olivia answered slowly. "Nothing, that I know of. But..." She trailed off, unwilling to voice her thoughts. 

Emma grinned silently. "It's just a party, Olivia. Fa la la and all that crap. I'm sorry it's such short notice, but Alexandra cancelled on me. She can't get out of Westchester until Christmas Eve, and I already ordered the deli tray..." Emma trailed off as well, but finally completed her thought gently. "You and I never did get that cup of coffee. And while the coffee tomorrow night may be spiked with Kahlua, I'd really like it if you came. And I swear on Kris Kringle himself that it's not a setup." 

"Well, if you're swearing on Santa Claus, I guess I can trust you," Olivia chuckled softly. "What time should I be there and what's the dress code?" 

"All right!" Emma said, her grin widening further. "People are coming around seven thirty-ish, but it's an open door policy. Dress code is whatever you want it to be. Believe me when I say it's going to be varied." As she hopped around the apartment, she pulled out her treetop angel and dusted off the wings. "I'm so glad you're going to come, Olivia." 

"Me, too," Olivia said softly, stacking some finished files on the edge of her desk. "I'm sure you throw a hell of a party."

* * *  
  


Jessica was greeting their guests as Emma was pulling on her coat, and saying her goodbyes. As she punched the elevator's down button, she wrapped her scarf around her neck and grumbled against the wool. "Never trust the boyfriend and the best friend to get the right ingredients." 

Five minutes after Emma left, Jess opened the door again, a confused look replacing the cheerful holiday expression once on her young face. "Back already?" 

Alex took off her hat and unwrapped her scarf, looking back at Jessica with a perplexed grin. "Was I already here?" 

Jessica laughed, giving her surrogate sister a hug. "Emma said you weren't coming!" 

Alex stepped inside the buzzing apartment, setting her shopping bags full of presents safely inside the hall closet and shedding her coat and gloves. "The case I was waiting on pled out. I was feeling very generous with it being the holidays and all." She searched the apartment for her sister. "Where's the Crack Elf?" 

Jess laughed, handing Alexandra a glass of wine. "She had to run to the store. I got the wrong rice."

"Oh." Alex's tone was low, but understanding. For as much as she was obsessive about her work, Emma was equally driven when it came to throwing a party. "That's not Jordan, is it?" She pointed to Emma's freshman year roommate. At Jess' assenting nod, Alex made her way over to the other side of the room and struck up a conversation. 

The doorbell rang again and Olivia waited outside the apartment, shivering. "Nothing like a New York storm," she commented softly, waiting for Emma to open to the door. 

Jess opened the door, trying to place the faces in front of her. "Hi," she hedged, trying to be enthusiastic, her brain working overtime. "Detective Benson!" Her enthusiasm on the last word shone with pride at placing the brunette's face. 

Smiling back at the effusive brunette, Olivia ventured, "Jessica?" Munch and Cassidy had been the ones to interview Emma's roommate at the time of her disappearance, so she and Olivia had only met briefly, during Peter's trial. 

"That's me." Jess opened the door wider, allowing Olivia and her companion to enter. "Come on in. Can I get you guys something to drink?" 

"I'd love something hot," Olivia said, trying to shake the chill out of her body as she shook frozen raindrops off her coat. "You have any coffee?" 

"Absolutely," Jess said, taking Olivia's coat. "And for you?" She looked at the tall, handsome blonde man standing next to the detective, his hand just brushing Olivia's back. 

"Coffee, if it's no trouble." His voice was deep, but soft as leather, his smile bright and sincere. "I'm James, by the way." 

Olivia grinned sheepishly, hanging their coats on the coat rack. "Sorry," she apologized to Jessica. "My mind's not really here." 

Jess smiled at both of them. "Not a problem." She extended her hand, motioning to the crowded room. "Make yourselves at home; help yourselves to the food. And don't worry, Detective, we're all over twenty-one, so you don't have to bust anybody." She moved back into the kitchen, starting a new pot of coffee. 

Laughing, Olivia turned toward her date, murmuring something about finding a friend. James nodded, making his way to an empty spot on the couch - the last one he thought he'd see for a while. He watched thoughtfully as Olivia crossed the room toward a tall blonde woman. 

Remembering her faux pas in mistaking Emma for Alex the last time they'd seen each other, Olivia couldn't help grinning as she snuck up behind her. Wrapping her arms around the other woman's waist in lieu of greeting, Olivia giggled near her friend's ear. "Hey, Cabot, guess who?" 

Alexandra froze mid-sentence, her right hand instinctively covering Olivia's. The blood rushing to her brain deafened her for a minute, and she fought the sensation. She found her own voice again, deeper and hoarse in surprise, but answered Olivia's teasing tone, that voice she'd know anywhere. "Are you one of the eight tiny reindeer?" 

"Yup, it's Blitz—Alex?" Olivia broke off in shock, but instead of falling to her sides, her arms tightened around the blonde's waist. 

Alex chuckled, craning her head backwards and squeezing Olivia's hands as they rested on her abdomen. "Hey. Long time no see." 

"Yeah," Olivia agreed, momentarily speechless. She recovered quickly, but still didn't release the ADA from her grasp. "I'm sorry," the detective murmured, her mouth close to Alex's ear. "I thought you were Emma at first." 

Alex hoped Olivia wouldn't notice the slight shiver that ran down her spine as the brunette's breath tickled her ear. "Damn family resemblance," she murmured back, tilting her head just slightly, so that her cheek grazed Olivia's lips. 

"Seemed to work in my favor this time," Olivia whispered under her breath. A bit louder, she added, "I thought you were Emma, so I was going to introduce you to...shit." With a soft growl, she dropped her hands, stuffing them in her pockets. "James," she finished, turning and scanning the room for her quickly-forgotten companion. 

The chill in Alex's bones returned as Olivia pulled away, leaving the blonde oddly disappointed. She turned, taking another sip of wine, and smoothed her black cocktail dress under trembling hands. Taking another, longer sip of the Kendall Jackson, she watched Olivia search the crowded apartment for her date. Any uncomfortable feelings Alexandra had were pushed aside and well-hidden under a gentle, smiling facade. 

Catching James' attention, Olivia waved him over, unsure about having them meet, but unwilling to let Alex out of her sight for very long. As he approached, Olivia gestured toward Alex. "James, I want you to meet a good friend of mine," she fibbed, glossing over the six months in which they hadn't so much as e-mailed, "ADA Alexandra Cabot, Westchester County. Alex, this is my...friend, James Marsh." Olivia hesitated only a split second as she introduced him. "James is a lieutenant at the Six-Two in Brooklyn," she said, a hint of pride in her voice. 

Alex's smile widened, even as she took in the situation around her. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Lieutenant." 

"You as well, ADA," James said formally, shaking her hand. "I don't get out of the city much these days; how's Westchester doing?" 

"Please, call me Alex. Anyone who braves my sister's holiday blowout is more than entitled." Alex chuckled, wondering just where her cute, but soon strangled, little sister was hiding. "As for Westchester, I think it's still standing. With work being the way it is, I haven't seen much of it recently." 

James smiled sincerely, glancing at Olivia as he wondered if he were imagining the tension between the pair. "Well, that's something of a relief. You working on anything interesting?" he asked, trying to make small talk as the two women stared uncomfortably at each other. 

Alex shook her head minutely. "Not particularly. Mainly it's been a race against the clock to finish up my cases before I transfer out." 

"Oh, where're you going?" James asked conversationally. Olivia simply raised an eyebrow at the news. 

"Here, actually." Alex finally looked Olivia straight in the eye, unable to read their dark depths. "I'm coming to the Manhattan DA's office." 

Her eyes grew more impossible to read as they darkened in surprise. "When?" was all Olivia asked, trying to keep a level tone. 

"January 2nd," Alex replied, trying to figure out whether or not she should lie and tell Olivia it was a rushed change, that she hadn't been planning it for the past three months. Instead, she offered another smile at James. "So, do you specialize, James, or just work the beat, as it were?" 

"I've got my own team, actually," James said proudly, when Olivia cut him off with a forced smile.

"James, I'm sorry, hon, would you do me a favor? I could really use a refill." She held up her empty coffee mug.

To his credit, James really took a hint well. Nodding and tilting his head toward Alex, he took the mug and went off in search of coffee - preferably the rarest bean imaginable from the darkest reaches of Colombia. 

Olivia watched James disappear into the crowd. When he was out of earshot, she reached for Alex's arm, tugging the blonde out onto the tiny balcony. Sliding the door shut behind them, Olivia tried to ignore the cold seeping through her mostly-decorative velvet bolero. "When did all this happen?" she asked quietly. 

Alex's small sigh expelled a floating frost into the New York night. "Abbie Carmichael called me at the end of September. I made my decision and gave my notice the first week of October." She turned, watching Olivia's eyes follow the lights of the city dancing across the night sky. "I only told Emma, Olivia, and that was only because I need her help moving me down here. It...it wasn't a reflection of you, or anything. I just...got caught up in the mayhem." Alex wasn't sure why she felt the overwhelming need to defend herself to a woman who hadn't tried to call or email in months. 

"You coulda called," Olivia said quietly. "I mean, I know we haven't talked much, but..." 

"You could have, too," Alex pointed out, equally soft. "Truth is, I didn't know what the hell I'd say to you. I have no idea where I stand with you." 

"I tried to call," Olivia admitted in a hushed voice. "I didn't know what to say." She met Alex's eyes, fighting for purchase in the blue depths. "What do you say to someone you kissed once? I just...I'm no good at any of it," she grumbled softly. The truth was, Olivia didn't want to find out if she would be any good at 'any of it'; she became too vulnerable by trying. 

Alex turned and leaned against the stone wall of the balcony. "Well, you either say, 'That was a huge mistake', or 'I'd really like it to happen again', and you go from there." Realizing there was much more to be said of their current situation, Alex lowered her voice and slid minutely closer to Olivia. "What was it about that kiss that made you avoid me for so long, Olivia?" 

Her breathing labored, Olivia shook her head. Being in close proximity to Alexandra Cabot was, for her, like having an asthma attack - her chest tight, it was nearly impossible for the detective to breathe. Some part of her really, really liked it. "I don't know," Olivia fumbled for the words, feeling the freezing cold seeping into her bones. Glancing at Alex, she started to worry a little. "Are you okay out here?" Olivia asked, her eyes darkening. "We can go inside." 

Alex nodded, but crossed her cardigan-clad arms anyway. "I'm fine. I'd like to try and talk this through, if we can. I don't know about you, but I'm sick of thinking up 'what if's." 

'Fight or flight' was never a question in Olivia Benson's mind; flight always won out easily. But the same quietly desperate tone in Alex's voice that drew her out onto the frigid little balcony kept her there despite the cold. Slipping her jacket off, Olivia draped it over Alex's shoulders without preamble. "What if what?" 

The small smile that crept on to Alexandra's face while she was in interrogation mode was the first in a while. "What if a lot of things," she replied, Olivia's scent wafting into her senses. "What if I had stayed that afternoon? What if I had completely ignored the signals I thought I was getting from you and just called you? What if we hadn't wasted all that time?" Alex shrugged, folding Olivia's coat over her slender middle, hoping the heat would comfort her churning stomach. She could only admit so much before her own flight instinct started to creep in.  "What if I kissed you again?" Alex finished.  "Would you run again?" 

Olivia paused in thought. "I might. But how far could I get?" She laughed softly. "You're not gonna be in Westchester any more. You're gonna be around the corner." 

Alex smiled at Olivia's light laugh. "New York's a big city," she teased. "And I don't know my way around very well yet. I'm sure there are hundreds of places you could hide that I wouldn't be able to find you." 

"Maybe I'm tired of hiding?" She didn't intend for it to come out as a question. 

Watching Olivia's eyes change as their conversation progressed, Alex was reminded of why, when she had a spare moment and her guard was down, she would think of this woman standing in front of her. She had had her own James-type back in Westchester, and it had been fun, but she knew from the get-go it would never work; he didn't understand how much a part of her life her work was. Olivia did, and embraced it as much as Alexandra. Now, Alex reached out, the way she hadn't been able to over the past few months, and brushed Olivia's hand with her own. "Maybe I'd find you, either way." 

"Maybe..." Olivia didn't finish the sentence, her stomach tightening in automatic pre-'flight'. "I..." She trailed off again, turning and meeting Alex's eyes fearlessly. "You're right. I've gotta stop 'what-if'ing." Capturing Alex's cheek with one palm, Olivia leaned in, until there was barely a breath between them. 

Her arms reaching out and resting on Olivia's hips, Alex closed the rest of the distance between them with only a fleeting thought of sheer terror. Despite the chill outside, Olivia's lips were warm on her own, and Alex found her knees school-girlishly, embarrassingly weak as her mouth opened under Olivia's. 

The fear mounted inside Olivia's chest as the strains of cheery Christmas music floated through the patio doors. Her stomach churned and her heart ached with something indefinable as Alex's mouth closed over her own. Olivia daringly slid her tongue out between her lips, tracing the edge of Alex's lips with the tender tip. 

Alex pulled Olivia closer, feeling their collective fear mingling with the kiss. She accepted Olivia's tongue with ease, her own sneaking out and mimicking the brunette's earlier motion. 

Slipping her hands into the loose section of Alex's claw-held hair, Olivia allowed a moan to break through her defenses. Her lips crushed Alex's, seemingly trying to draw the very life out of the other woman with her kiss. 

Alex finally wrapped her arms around Olivia's waist fully, sliding her hands up and down the soft cashmere sweater. A slight sigh indicated Alex's pleasure starting to overtake her still overwhelming fears, and also allowed her tongue to tease Olivia's more boldly, sending a shiver not born of the cold, through her body. 

The heat filling Olivia's chest began to trickle down into her stomach, and further still. Her fear overcame her excitement in a rush of dread and she pulled away, gasping for breath. "Alex," was all Olivia said, her voice an impossibly soft cry. Resting her forehead against the blonde's, she shook her head minutely. 

Alex expelled a broken sigh, licking her lips after Olivia broke away. "God," she breathed. "That was sure as hell worth waiting six months for." 

Laughing softly, Olivia shook her head again, pulling away half a centimeter. "Alex," she repeated softly, daring to look at the other woman as she spoke, "what am I supposed to do now?" 

Alex shook her head and raised her slender shoulders in a 'you've got me' gesture. "I'm torn between telling you to do it again, and telling you to go back to your date." 

"Oh, he's gone as soon as we go back in," Olivia chuckled, shivering in the cold. "I meant...this could easily become way more than it is. What do we do if that happens?" She'd use every euphemism she knew before the L word would cross her lips. 

"Enjoy it?" Alex shook her head again, knowing Olivia would understand why she was failing miserably to be her verbose, articulate self. "I know I'm not ready for anything remotely serious. What I do know is that you are one of the most intriguing and amazing people I've ever met, Olivia. And I want to explore that, on whatever level you feel comfortable." 

_'Not ready for anything remotely serious...'_ The words echoed in Olivia's head, at once disappointing and comforting. She knew she wouldn't be ready for anything serious for quite a long while, if ever, but some part of her wanted Alex to want more. "Okay," she said quietly. "All right," Olivia reiterated, more definitively. 

Alex trailed a light finger along Olivia's temple, moving it down and cupping her silky cheek. "What are your thoughts on this?" 

Olivia's voice dropped to a low and throaty murmur. "I'm thinking I might jump right outta my skin if you keep doing that." 

Alex chuckled, massaging her thumb over Olivia's cheekbone. "Does that scare you?" 

"Hell, yeah." 

Tightening her left hand around Olivia's waist and continuing her motion with her right, Alex's next question was barely a whisper. "Why?" 

"'Cause nobody's touch ever made me want to throw 'em up against the wall and fuck 'em 'till we both saw stars." Olivia winced at the honest, but crude, language that she couldn't seem to curtail before it left her mouth. 

Alex raised her eyebrows in partial surprise, even as she felt her body tighten at the suggestion. She pulled Olivia against her and kissed her hard, but fleetingly. "I feel the same way." 

"Then why are we still here?" Olivia grinned teasingly, knowing that neither could leave Emma's party that soon without major consequences. Leaning against Alex, Olivia trapped her against the railing, her mouth hovering above the attorney's. 

Alex quirked a single eyebrow this time, keeping her hand at the small of Olivia's back, feeling deliciously trapped. The freedom she felt was unparalleled, and it was starting to make her head spin. "Do you think you could handle it? Handle me?" 

Cocking her head to one side, Olivia drew her mouth up in a wry smile. Her lips brushed Alex's ear as she whispered, "I can do more than handle you, Miss Cabot. I can make you fly."

"Promises, promises." Alex's reply was low and deep in her throat before she tilted her head and kissed Olivia's neck. 

Growling softly, Olivia was so caught up in the vibrations of Alex's tongue on her throat that she didn't hear the glass door slide open. 

"Ah." James' deep voice came from behind her. Pulling away, Olivia whirled, her eyes sharp and remorseful before she even made contact with his. Before she could speak, James shook his head and walked out, his entire demeanor calm, frozen with sublimated fury. He grabbed his coat and just kept walking, right out of the apartment. 

Olivia stood silently, her arm still around Alex's waist. 

Emma's flushed face peeked out from around the curtain. "What was that all about?" she asked, before realizing her sister was still tightly wrapped in Olivia's grasp. "Wait a second..." Emma's eyes darted from the detective to her sister and back again. "You're not supposed to be here." 

Alex offered a smile. "Surprise?" 

Emma nodded. "I'll say." 

Olivia offered a tight smile, but didn't pull away from Alex - a first, in her mind. "Yeah, I still think you set us up, Em." 

Emma held up her hands in innocent protest. "As far as I knew, Alex was staying upstate until the day after tomorrow." 

Alex nodded, settling into the comfort and warmth of Olivia's arm. "And I didn't call to tell you I finished up early." 

Emma nodded enthusiastically, knowing Olivia most likely wouldn't pummel her in front of thirty witnesses, but still did a cursory check for the detective's holster before she answered. "I'm just as surprised as you are." 

"I went home and changed first," Olivia assured Emma with a teasing glare. "My gun's locked up - fortunately for you, chicky." Belying her words, Olivia pulled Alex a fraction of an inch closer. "I'll forgive you this once, but only because your sister's vouching for you," she grinned. 

"Phew." Emma heaved a dramatic sigh of relief. She shivered, rubbing her bare arms. "I'm going back inside. You guys need anything?" 

Alex shook her head, reluctant to leave their embrace. "I think we're fine." 

"We're good," Olivia echoed. 

"All righty." Emma slid the door shut and pulled the curtains back, enough to give her sister and Olivia a little privacy, but left it open enough so the two would have some light on the balcony. 

Alex's heart started racing as she heard the tiny snick of the door catching in its track. As her hormone levels had time to calm down, her rational side started peeking through the erotic haze currently spinning in her head; were they moving too fast? Was it even right? She desperately wanted the answers, the ability to make some kind of sense of the feelings she was having, standing in thirty-degree weather, with barely a cocktail dress, a cardigan, and a beautiful detective to keep her warm. 

Olivia's rational side flew up, tossing the facts in her face. They had barely known each other two days, then spent six months apart. What was she doing, Olivia wondered, out here in the bitter New York winter, opening herself up to the possibility of being devastated again? Glancing at Alex, catching those impossibly blue eyes staring back at her, Olivia answered her own question. 

Alex's hand, of its own volition, rubbed light circles on Olivia's lower back as she watched the dim light dance in mahogany eyes. "I guess the question now is, what next?" 

"This." Olivia leaned in, kissing Alex gently. "And this." Her hand rested on the rise of one perfect hip, her thumb idly stroking the black silk of Alex's dress. 

Even the slightest pressure of Olivia's mouth on her own sent Alex's thoughts about long-term consequences and rational debate fluttering into the icy night. As her mouth parted, hungrily accepting Olivia's kiss, her mind opened as well, to emotions long forgotten - or long suppressed. In one clichéd, but nakedly truthful moment, Alexandra Cabot, once unflappable, found herself terrified, aroused, and certain of only one thing: she'd kill Olivia barehanded if she stopped that thumb thing. 

Olivia's fingers kept up the restless stroking of Alex's hip as her mind shut down; the only thing she felt was a fire inside her belly that she knew could never be quenched. Her free hand cupping the other woman's neck beneath the curtain of her blonde hair, Olivia's fingers gripped Alex's hip, pulling her closer. Slowly, she insinuated her knee between Alex's thighs, effectively capturing the ADA. 

Alex would later deny that the soft whimpers coming out of her mouth actually belonged to her. She tightened her own arms around Olivia's waist, her slender fingers sneaking under the hem of her sweater and caressing the soft skin there. She started to grind gently against Olivia's knee, her superego hesitant to push past any safety boundaries, and her id screaming for more. 

Olivia fought to remember the guests inside who could slip past Emma's best intentions of guarding them and step out onto the balcony at any moment. Despite them, her hand jumped from Alex's hip to her knee, sliding up under her short cocktail dress easily. 

"Christ." The hissed syllable was the first to break through the sounds of Alexandra's panting and their fervent kisses, carrying away from Olivia as Alex tilted her head back, the sensation of chilled hand on her flushed body enough to make her jump. As Olivia's hands stroked her body, Alex's own became bolder, moving fully under Olivia's sweater, palms spread against her back. 

The word dragged Olivia back from the brink, and she snatched her hand away from the heat of Alex's core, where it had been about to venture. An apologetic nuzzle to the back of Alex's ear was Olivia's assurance that she hadn't changed her mind. "Not on your sister's balcony," she chuckled softly. 

Alex let out a long, deep breath, caught between disappointment and gratitude. She closed her eyes for a minute, removing her hands from under Olivia's shirt, but resting them softly on her waist. "You're right," Alex agreed, her voice hoarse from robbed arousal. "I hate it when you're right." 

"How often does that happen?" Olivia laughed. "For all you know, once a year." She reached up and brushed Alex's hair off her face. "Wanna get out of here?" Her tone was oddly pleading. 

Alex chuckled, leaning up and kissing Olivia gently. "I think this is the only reason Emma would ever let me leave her party early." 

"Thank God," Olivia breathed out heavily. 

Alex shifted out from under Olivia, rubbing her back in an attempt to wake it up after being pressed against the metal railing for so long. She handed Olivia her bolero back, and straightened her outfit, running a quick hand through her hair. She barely knew her sister's friends, who were apparently amusing themselves with a drunken rendition of "Grandma Got Run Over by a Reindeer", but they didn't need to know she was ready to get down and dirty on a balcony seven floors up. She did, however, take Olivia by the hand and move to the sliding glass door. "Let's get out of here." 

If asked, Olivia couldn't tell you who they said goodbye to, or how they got out; the next thing she knew, they were in front of her door, and she was turning the key in the lock. 

Alex had been unnaturally quiet during the ride from her sister's place to Olivia's, her mind and body waging a war between what was best for the both of them, and what she desperately wanted. Leaping into a sexual relationship three hours after seeing each other for the first time in nearly six months wasn't the best way to start anything, friendship or more, and she knew it well. But there was that silly, desperate longing hanging in her stomach, acting as a vicarious thrill. And then, of course, there was Olivia. Alexandra's long-touted rationale still didn't have a comeback for the things that woman's kiss did to her. Despite the tumultuous inner dialogue, Alex said nothing, simply placing her hand on her claimed permanent residence, the small of Olivia's back, as the brunette slid the key into the apartment lock. 

They entered the apartment and Olivia turned to face Alex, leaning around her to push the door shut. "You okay?" she asked quietly, her insides still thrumming with desire. 

"I'm probably better than I have been in years," Alex replied. "I'm also scared shitless. And aroused beyond the telling of it." 

Listening carefully, Olivia seized on the last part. Her hand went to Alex's hip again, resuming their position from the balcony. "D'you wanna pick up where we left off?" she asked softly, eyeing the full lips in front of her. 

"God, yes." Alex closed the space between them, kissing Olivia briefly. "But only if you want to." 

Instead of responding, Olivia pulled Alex close, pressing a heated kiss to her lips, and all the blood sped away from her head.

* * *

They lay together afterward, and Olivia took Alex's face in her hands, drawing her close for a long kiss. 

Still breathless, Alex reluctantly broke the kiss to catch her breath. She laid her head in the crook of her arm, watching Olivia's own breathing return to normal. "I'm really glad I came down to see Emma early," she said quietly, the silly grin never wavering. 

"Me too," Olivia said, watching Alex with an intent stare. 

"You still okay with this?" 

Olivia smiled, a note of practicality in her voice. "Little too late for regrets," she postulated. 

Alex's chuckle had an admittedly surprised tone to it. "I suppose that's true." She rolled onto her stomach, folding her hands on one of Olivia's pillows and resting her cheek on top of her knuckles, making a sated humming noise. The silence was bordering on uncomfortable, but the haze still in her head agreed with her rationale; there was no reason to start analyzing this now. She couldn't say there was even a 'this' to analyze. She just smiled at Olivia again, brushing her hair back from her face. 

Smiling nervously, Olivia let Alex's fingers brush the annoying hair off her forehead. "I'm getting pretty tired," she said quietly. "Don't be insulted if I just kinda crash." 

Alex nodded understandingly. "You want me to go?" 

"Not necessarily," Olivia said softly. Now that the intensity of the moment had passed, she was more hesitant about what they were getting themselves into. But Alex's citrus-sweet scent on her pillow was intoxicating, banishing Olivia's doubts for the night. 

Sensing Olivia's hesitancy matched her own, Alex leaned over and kissed the brunette, once again long and lingering. "I think I probably should go," she finally said. "Give us some time to...digest, or whatever." 

Olivia's reply was almost too soft to be heard. "If you want to." She met Alex's eyes calmly, hers betraying nothing of what she was feeling. 

_If only I knew what I wanted._ Alex met Olivia's intense gaze with ease, stalling in bed for a moment. "You have any plans for Christmas?" 

"Not really," the detective replied cautiously, studying Alex with a practiced eye. "Why?" 

"I was thinking maybe you'd like to spend part of the day with Emma and me. It's crazy, yes, but Emma can cook like you wouldn't believe. I'd really like it if you came." 

Olivia nearly laughed aloud at the incongruity of Alexandra Cabot. One moment she wasn't sure if she wanted to spend the night, the next she was inviting Olivia to spend the most important holiday of the year with her family. Chuckling softly, Olivia nodded in the semi-darkness. "Yeah, why not." 

Alex chuckled with her, despite the inner turmoil she hadn't been able to shake since Olivia had mistaken her for Emma earlier in the evening. This was so unlike her, she mused, not knowing what she wanted, and contradicting herself at every turn. She wanted to run - sprint, actually - before she opened herself up any more than she had. _Great time for second thoughts, Alexandra._ But her hesitation wasn't rooted in fear that they had made a mistake; instead, it was the vulnerability she felt here, in Olivia's bed, and in Olivia's mere presence. Few people had shaken Alex as much as the detective had, and they had only known each other for moments. Her main question centered on what would happen to them if this continued...and what would happen if it didn't. 

Watching Alex carefully, Olivia weighed her options, then dismissed everything in favor of honesty. "You sure you want to leave?" she asked quietly. One long, slender finger traced Alex's cheekbone. 

Alex closed her eyes at Olivia's touch, and shook her head. "No," she admitted softly. 

"Then don't go," Olivia said simply, the offer intimated in her voice. 

"All right." And it was - for now. She raised her hips and pulled the comforter and sheets back, sliding under the cotton, shivering as it tickled her bare back. She kept her eyes on Olivia's as she reached out and took the brunette's hand in hers. "Thanks." 

Shrugging, Olivia bundled herself under the covers, arms at her sides, one hand tangled with Alex's. If Alex wanted something more physically intimate, Olivia figured, she'd initiate it. That thought alone made Olivia giggle softly. Here they were, less than half an hour after having the most intense sex she'd personally experienced, and she was worried about crossing into Alex's personal space by trying to cuddle. 

They laid in silence for a few minutes until Alex felt herself nearing sleep, her body clinging to the first morsel of relaxation it had experienced all week. Her eyes closed and her entire body loosened, except for the odd angle at which her hand still clung to Olivia. She released their fingers and tentatively slid her arm across Olivia's stomach again, curling into her side. 

Pleasantly surprised, Olivia accepted the movement without comment, wrapping her arm around Alex. She fought the urge to whisper 'Sleep tight', choosing instead to plant a light kiss on Alex's forehead once she thought the blonde was asleep. Then, Olivia let her eyes close, forcing out the tumult of feelings and warring thoughts threatening to overwhelm her dizzied mind.   
  


* * *  
  


"Try that," Emma ordered, hurriedly sticking a forkful of something precariously near Alexandra's eye as she bustled around her far-too-small kitchen, conducting the Trans-Siberian Orchestra with her free hand and stirring the gravy with her other. 

Realizing she was holding the first batch of Emma's infamous stuffing, Alex quickly popped the creation in her mouth, savoring the spices. To say Alexandra couldn't cook would be an understatement, but she knew how to eat just fine. She groaned as the bread slipped down her throat, and took another sip of red wine. "That's fantastic, Em." 

Emma grunted in her direction, double checking the turkey in one oven and the ham in the other. They had spent months looking for an apartment in their price range that had a kitchen suitable to Emma's cooking habits. "I can't believe you sprang another person on me," she chastised Alexandra. She straightened, dumping the peeled potatoes into the mixer. "Is that what you're wearing?" 

Alex looked down at her black leggings and black cable-knit sweater. "What's wrong with it?" 

"You look like you're going to a funeral, that's all," Emma replied, laughing as her mix CD changed to Adam Sandler's 'Hanukkah Song'. 

"You sound more and more like Mom every day," Alex replied, ducking swiftly as Emma threw peels in her direction. 

"You insult me like that one more time, Alexandra, and you're having McDonald's for Christmas dinner." Emma waved her away, deftly adding milk and margarine to her mixer. 

Instead of leaving the kitchen, Alex walked over to her sister and kissed her temple. "You're the best, Em." 

"I know," Emma replied, motioning to the door as a swift knock interrupted the tender moment. "That's probably Mark. And Al, would you please apologize for thinking he kidnapped me? It's been long enough." 

Alex laughed, loosening her hair from its ponytail. "All right, I'll stop bothering him about it. But you're still committing the sin of fornication with him, so I still get glaring rights." 

Emma's laughter echoed over the music, and Alex couldn't help grinning as she opened the door. 

"Merry Christmas, Alex," Mark said warily, holding out a huge shopping bag full of gifts as a peace offering. "I come bearing gifts, and Kendall Jackson," he added, brandishing a bottle of pink zinfandel from beneath his coat. 

Alex smiled warmly, allowing him in. "Merry Christmas, Mark," she said genuinely, accepting the wine. "You can stick your presents under the tree, if you want. Emma'd open presents until March, if you let her. But I guess you know that." 

"I heard that." Emma emerged from the kitchen, rising up and giving Mark a kiss. "Hey." 

"Hey, yourself," Mark said, kissing Emma gently. "Is that your stuffing I smell?" he inquired, sniffing the air. "Please, God, tell me it's your stuffing." 

The identical laughs that came out of Alex and Emma were eerie. "Only for you, baby," Emma purred, wrapping one arm around Mark's waist and winking at her sister. 

"Oh, Lord," Alex rolled her eyes and moved back into the kitchen, putting the wine in the fridge, giving Emma and Mark some time alone. He was a good kid, she knew, and had helped Emma recover from trauma time and again, probably better than any therapist or sisterly intervention could have. Of course, there was still that stubborn protective streak coloring Alex's perception of Mark, especially when she remembered how badly their first go-'round had ended. But here they were, together and happy on Christmas, listening to Martina McBride's soulful rendition of 'O Holy Night'. 

Emma came back into the kitchen, grabbing Mark a glass of wine. "You okay, Allie?" 

Alex smiled. "I'm great, sweetie. Can I help?" 

"God, no. You can go pick up pine needles. Or watch 'It's A Wonderful Life' for the seventy-fifth time today." 

"I'll pass, thanks." Alex left the kitchen and headed to the living room, stopped by another knock on the door. "Me, Em?" 

"Well, you're certainly not here to cook," Emma called back. 

Alex laughed and opened the door, grinning at a pile of boxes and the top of Jessica's head. The young woman peeked around the brightly-wrapped gifts and said, "Look out, I'm the leaning tower of Visa." 

Alex took a few boxes off the top, much to Jessica's relief. They placed the presents under the tree, with Jess talking a mile a minute about her brief winter wonderland vacation in Connecticut at her parents' house. Emma stuck her head out of the kitchen and pointed at her sister. "You, make yourself useful. I need the china out of the back of my closet." 

Rolling her eyes good-naturedly, Alex ducked into her sister's room, winking at Jess. "If I don't come back in two days, send a search party and save me some stuffing." She opened her sister's precarious closet and dug through to a pile of Crate & Barrel boxes, a housewarming gift from Alexandra. She pulled the dishes out of the wrapping and balanced them on the bed. Once the set was completely out and safe from Emma's clunky heeled shoes, Alex picked up the dinner and salad plates and headed back out into the main part of the apartment, blowing bubble wrap specks off the surface. "You want me to wash these, Em?" 

"Yes, please!" Emma called back, still fussing in the kitchen. 

A hesitant knock sounded on the door, soft enough only to be heard in the living room; the clanging and crashing of Emma's feast preparations were enough to drown out the light tapping. 

"I got it!" Jess called, drowned out by Emma's cursing at her not-quite-scalloped potatoes. She opened the door, a brief surprise smile flitting across her face. "Hi, Detective Benson. Uh, Merry Christmas." 

Smiling nervously, Olivia greeted the younger woman. "Hi. Uhm, Alex invited me," she said quietly. "I'm not too early, am I?" 

"Oh, no, no. I'm sorry, I'm a little frazzled. Time with the crazy family will do that to you. Please, come in." Jess opened the door wider, years of living with Emma evident in her immediate hospitality. "Can I get you a cup of coffee or something?" she asked, taking Olivia's coat and remembering back to Emma's party a few nights earlier. 

"No, thanks," Olivia said, handing over her coat; her voice was still a little nerve-wracked. 

Jess shook her head. "Emma's liable to come at you with a spatula if you enter her kitchen. Just come on in, relax. We're just laughing at all of Emma's weird ornaments. She tries to make a new one every year out of like, pine cones and stuff. It's really funny." 

Stepping over to the six foot Douglas fir, Olivia chuckled softly. "This one looks like it's on its last legs," she commented, fingering a tiny pine cone dressed as Santa Claus. 

"Yeah, I think that one was from her childhood. She once told me she had made a replica of Joey McIntyre from New Kids on the Block, but sadly, that one is now fertilizer." Jess plopped down in the overstuffed chair, picking up her eggnog. 

Mark emerged from the bathroom, doing a double take at Olivia's form admiring the tree. "Detective Benson?" 

Turning quickly, Olivia was able to smile at Emma's boyfriend; Alex had warned her that Mark would be there. "Hi, Mark," she said easily. "Call me Olivia." 

"Okay, Olivia," Mark replied, hesitating before finishing her name. "So you're being initiated, huh?' 

Widening her eyes on purpose, Olivia tried to look frightened. "Nobody mentioned an initiation," she deadpanned. "I'm here for the turkey." 

Mark laughed. "Good. If you're here for the turkey, it means more stuffing for me." 

"I'm fighting you for that stuffing," Jess replied, flipping through the stations on the TV before giving up. 

"I'll throw you all in jail if you get in my way. I've been waiting a year for that stuffing," Alex replied, emerging from the kitchen, wiping her hands on a towel. She stopped as she saw Olivia, but broke into a radiant smile. "Merry Christmas." 

"Merry Christmas," Olivia echoed with a reflective smile. She hesitated only a second before crossing the room and wrapping Alex in a quick hug. Her lips brushed the blonde's briefly. 

Tingling from the tips of her toes on up, Alex added a slight bit of pressure to the kiss before breaking the contact. "I'm glad you came," she said quietly. 

"By that, she means 'we', of course," Emma said, stepping out of the kitchen briefly and giving Olivia an equally quick hug. "Thirty minutes, people!" she called from the kitchen, turning up George Winston's 'December' CD. 

Jess and Mark groaned. Moving from the tree and poking his head in the kitchen, Mark pleaded with his girlfriend. "You have anything to munch on?" 

Emma snapped in Alex and Olivia's direction. "One of you get the veggie tray out, the other make the dip. And by the 'other', I mean Olivia, Alexandra." 

"How'd I get nominated?" Olivia murmured to Alex, fearful for her life if she objected loud enough for Emma to hear. Stepping into the tiny kitchen, she squeezed around Emma and began rooting in the fridge for the mayo and dip fixings. 

Alex chuckled, hovering in the tiny corner as Olivia rooted around her sister's overstuffed fridge. "I think she trusts you more," Alex replied, equally quiet, as Emma had started cutting with a scarily oversized knife. "I'm surprised she even let me **in** the kitchen." She leaned halfway around and halfway against Olivia, pulling the vegetable tray out of the refrigerator. The heat of Olivia's body against hers again was almost embarrassingly enough to make her drop the glass plate. She coughed, recovering, and noted a sly, amused look coming from her sister's abnormally bright blue eyes. 

Grinning wickedly, Olivia made it a point to slip past Alex again, letting their lower bodies press together as she headed for the dining room table, where there was a little room to mix ingredients. 

Alex cleared her throat, glaring at the now Cheshire Cat-esque Emma. She removed the cellophane from the tray, deftly balling it up and throwing it in the trashcan. She took it out to the waiting masses, and as she set the tray down on the coffee table, she noted with pleasure how Olivia seemed to be fitting in, chuckling at one of Mark's infamous Emma stories. 

Grinning, Olivia excused herself quietly and slid back into the kitchen. "Can I help with anything?" she asked Emma softly. "I promise, I don't cook like your sister." After the stories Jess had just told about Alex, Olivia wondered how she'd gotten through life without setting herself on fire. 

Emma let out a delighted howl of laughter. She bit her bottom lip in thought before handing Olivia her carving knife. "You can help with the salads," she offered. "I've been up since five, so most of the big stuff is done. But I normally do a Caesar and a regular house salad. You could chop for me." 

"Happy to." Olivia reached for a hunk of Romaine lettuce and began chopping it into edible chunks. She and Emma worked side by side in silence, the strains of the Whoville Whos singing 'Welcome Christmas' drifting in the space between them. After a while, Olivia reached for the tomatoes and began to slice. "Thanks," she said, out of the blue. 

"For what?" Emma asked, finishing off the cranberry sauce. "I mean, of course you're welcome...but what'd I do?" 

"For not being here the other night," Olivia replied cryptically, grinning to herself as she sprinkled cheese over the bowl of Romaine lettuce. 

Emma narrowed her eyes in confusion. "Okay," she replied slowly, her mind working over Olivia's reference. After a moment, she went back to busying herself with the food, pausing to hold a forkful of potatoes out for Olivia to taste-test. "Do they need more salt?" 

Leaning over, Olivia licked the potatoes off the fork and paused to run them over her tongue carefully. She took her mashed potatoes **very** seriously. "No, but a splash of garlic might perk 'em up." 

"Ooh. Nice idea!" Emma climbed on her step-stool and rooted around her spice rack. "Do you prefer fresh or bottled?" 

"Is that a real question?" Olivia teased, reaching in front of Emma to dip into the potatoes again. "Fresh, whenever possible." 

Emma pointed to the fridge. "There might be some next to the butter. Check for me." 

Alex entered the kitchen warily, carrying empty wine glasses. She looked from Olivia to Emma, an inquisitive look on her face. "What are you two up to?" 

Emma pulled her head out of the cabinet and motioned to Olivia. "She's a keeper." 

Blushing silently, Olivia found the garlic and passed it to Emma. 

Emma hopped down from her stool, taking the garlic with a grin. She looked at her sister, raising her eyebrows. "Why are you still in my kitchen?" 

"Sheesh, Em," Alex replied, slipping behind Olivia again, barely brushing her pelvis to Olivia's butt as she did so, grabbing the bottle of wine from the fridge and refilling the two wineglasses. "Don't let her push you around, Olivia. She's got a big enough head as it is." 

Emma swatted a dishtowel at her sister, her laughter trailing her fellow blonde out of the room. "Out, damn spot, out!" 

Shivering from the slight contact, Olivia turned to grin at Emma as Alex disappeared back into the living room. "I smelled the stuffing on the way in," she said, trying to change the topic from her budding relationship to a more comfortable topic - food. "It smells amazing." 

"Thanks," Emma replied, slipping into the new context easily. "It's a recipe I perfected over the years. Mark keeps telling me it's better than oysters in the aphrodisiac department. Jess can't spell aphrodisiac, so she likens it to the Mystic Pizza. Either way," Emma shrugged, "it's a favorite. If you like it, I'll set some of the extra aside for you." 

Olivia smiled sincerely. "I'd love that. Maybe, in a few years, you'll trust me with the recipe," she winked. 

Emma pretended to mull it over. "Well, logically, I should pass it on to my sister, but I have a very good feeling she should never attempt this without supervision. So we'll tell her I'm giving it to her, but in reality, you'll get full discretion, okay?" 

"Sounds like a plan. I'll make sure she's under the watchful eye of a grown-up at all times." 

Emma laughed again, stepping back and surveying her kitchen. "Okay," she said aloud, "We have turkey, ham, mashed potatoes, scalloped potatoes, baby carrots, sweet potatoes, green beans, cranberry sauce, rolls and gravy." She looked up at Olivia, who was quickly becoming her cooking confidante. "Am I forgetting anything?" 

"Dessert?" Olivia asked. 

"Oh, we have a cheesecake, apple pie, and pumpkin pie in the fridge. I'll reheat the pies after we're done with dinner. Normally, that happens about nine or nine thirty in the evening, so we've got five hours before people are able to do up their pants again." 

Olivia laughed aloud, wiping her hands on a paper towel. "Then it sounds like we're all set." 

"Nice." Emma sighed, looking down at her mussed self. "Shit, I look like a train wreck. Can you get Jess and Mark to set up the buffet table and help Alex move the food out to the dining room? There's not enough room to serve in here." 

"Yeah, you go get changed," Olivia agreed. Stepping out into the hall, she called, "Troops, if you want to eat, come help set up." Bribery was effective, if nothing else. 

"Bless you," Emma replied with a grin, whipping off her apron and dashing to her bedroom. 

Jess, Mark and Alex appeared in the doorway. "She's letting you delegate?" Mark asked, surprised that Emma gave up any control at all of her Christmas feast. "She never lets me delegate." 

"You're probably just lousy at it," Olivia smiled charmingly, laying a hand on Mark's shoulder. "Okay, Mark, you're in charge of putting up the buffet tables and getting the cold things onto the left end. Jess, once the table's up, you're bringing in drinks and putting them on the right side, with the ice at the far end. Allie, you and I are going to load up the second table with the hot food. Everyone clear?" 

"Yes, ma'am," Jess and Mark replied in tandem before getting stuck in the kitchen doorway as both attempted to move back into the living room at the same time. 

Alex leaned against the counter, her head cocked to one side after hearing the nary-used nickname slip out of Olivia's mouth. Rather than comment, she instead said, "You understand now that you've been deemed Emma's little helper, you will be required to attend all Cabot holiday feasts, even if no other Cabot family member is present." 

"You'll be here," Olivia said quietly, watching Mark get the tables into position. 

"I don't know," Alex replied easily, moving across the kitchen and wrapping her arms loosely around Olivia's waist. "You're quickly becoming my sister's favorite." 

Inhaling deeply, Olivia fought for breath. Turning her head and tilting it back, she met Alex's eyes. "If you're not here, I'm not comin'." 

Alex smiled, resting her cheek on Olivia's shoulder, tightening her grip momentarily before regretfully letting go. "You want to carry the ham or the turkey?" 

"Ham. If you drop the turkey, though, I'll kill you myself; Emma will have to kill your remains." 

Alex's laughter was light as she picked up the roasting pan. "I'll treat it like glass," she replied, moving out of the kitchen, pretending to stumble and exclaiming "Oops!" as she reached the doorjamb. She shot a look at Olivia, her smile wider than it had been in a good ten years. "Gotcha." 

Her heart pounding, Olivia laughed loudly. "You jerk!" she accused, setting the ham down carefully in its appointed place. 

Alex laughed again, rubbing a quick hand on Olivia's back before going back into the kitchen and grabbing another of the hot dishes. Within five minutes, Emma had emerged in a midnight blue velvet skirt and white wrap-around blouse, and directed Mark, Olivia and Alexandra in finishing off the preparation. Finally, she clapped her hands and said, "All right, let's eat!" 

Olivia glanced between Alex and Emma, noting once more the stunning resemblance between the sisters. "This is it?" she pondered, as they sat down to eat. "I figured with all this food, we were expecting at least a dozen more people." 

Jess and Mark laughed in tandem. "Food is a power trip for Emma," Mark replied effortlessly, dishing out a large pile of the greatly aforementioned stuffing. "She goes way overboard, sends all of us home with enough food to last us until March, and gives the rest to some of the local homeless shelters." 

Turning toward Emma, Olivia paused to survey the blonde silently, before returning her attention to the food. Each little revelation gave her more insight to the fascinating Cabot sisters. 

Emma fit as much food as possible on her plate before putting it at her designated chair. She moved to the CD player and put on Handel's 'Messiah', lowering the lights and lighting some candles for a more intimate feel. She sat at her place, waiting for everyone to sit. She raised her wine glass, smiling at the gathering. "Merry Christmas to all, and to all a happy heart." 

Sitting to Emma's left, Olivia raised her glass with the others. Thinking for a second, she added her two cents, feeling a little silly. "Merry Christmas, and may next year see us laughing more." She smiled gently at Emma as she spoke. 

From across the table, Alex smiled gently. "To new friends, and old...and to new beginnings," she toasted. 

"Hear, hear," Mark replied, leaning over and giving Emma a quick kiss before digging in. 

"Oh, you've outdone yourself, Emma Kate," Jess said around a mouthful of potatoes. "Is this a new recipe?" 

Emma nodded. "Courtesy of Olivia." 

Jess looked at the detective next to her. "So, what are you doing for Easter?" 

Laughing again, Olivia shook her head. "I guess I'm coming here..." She glanced at Alex for confirmation. 

Emma jumped in before her sister could reply. "Of course you're coming here," she said, her tone leaving no room for argument. "Unless Allie's apartment is bigger, and then we're going there." 

"We are?" Alexandra teased. "It'd be an awful haul for you to bring all your kitchen supplies over there." 

"We'll rent a U-Haul," Emma replied evenly, passing the rolls to her sister. 

"You could just come to my place," Olivia offered, trying to sound nonchalant as she cut into her ham. "I've got a nice big kitchen, and I'm sure I have most of the supplies you need, Em." 

"Now that's an idea," Emma replied, filling every stereotyped behavior of a kid on Christmas. "Ooh, that could be way too much fun." 

Grinning, Olivia nodded quickly. "I could show you my bread pudding recipe." 

Mark leaned back in his chair, grinning over his wineglass. "Should we leave you two alone?" 

Emma hit him swiftly on the arm. "I have waited almost twenty-seven years for someone who understands my Julia Child side. I'm not passing her up." 

Olivia turned a deep red and suddenly became fascinated with the turkey on her plate. 

Alex continued to chuckle in between bites of dinner, her long legs and bare feet extending and rubbing Olivia's calf encouragingly. Few had been subjected to Emma's initiations, and even fewer had made it this far. 

Olivia nearly choked on a mouthful of cranberry sauce, composing herself just enough to return Alex's sensual little leg-rubbing with some of her own. 

The contrast of Olivia's leather boot on Alex's bare foot sent a concealed shiver up the blonde's spine, who sublimated her desire to lean across the table and kiss Olivia silly into re-mashing her mashed potatoes. She fairly cleared her plate, and eyed the stuffing from afar. Rising from the table, plate in hand, she asked, "Anyone else want anything while I'm up?" 

"Al, can you grab the other bottle of white wine from the fridge for me?" Emma replied. "After you stock up again, of course." 

"I'll get it." Olivia stood and followed Alex over to the buffet table, passing her and heading toward the kitchen. As she slid by Alex, Olivia pressed her hand to the blonde's slender hip, rubbing her thumb twice. Stepping to the fridge, she grabbed the wine and turned back toward the table. 

Alex filled her plate and slid it to her place at the table. "I'm gonna grab the other Cabernet for me."  She moved back into the kitchen, pushing Olivia back in the tiny enclave. Without really considering it, she tilted her head up and kissed the brunette intensely, trailing her tongue along Olivia's lower lip. 

Her head spinning, Olivia devoured the blonde, her hands settling on Alex's hips. Breathless and shaking, she slid her tongue into Alex's mouth. 

Alex wrapped her arms around Olivia's neck, sliding her tongue against Olivia's slowly. She pulled herself flush against Olivia's torso, running her fingers through the ends of the dark hair brushing against shaped shoulders. 

Groaning under her breath, Olivia shook her head slowly. "We can't," she murmured. "I want you too bad." 

"Oh, good. I thought I was the only hornball in the room," Alex replied, her smile gentle and eager at the same time. "I just had to kiss you, that's all." 

"I've gotta do more than that," Olivia said, tracing Alex's mouth with her finger. "So either get out there and finish eating, or let's just go in the bedroom now," she teased. 

Alex kissed her again, moving past her and fishing the last bottle of red wine out of the fridge. "Dinner it is. But later...?" She winked, a relatively unfamiliar and carefree move, but a necessary means of escape should the two solitary souls need it in the future. 

Nodding with a smile, Olivia was the first to return to her seat. At the others' snickering glances, she defended herself. "She couldn't find the wine." 

"Well, my fridge is a mess," Emma defended, shooting dagger-laden looks at her boyfriend and roommate. She knew from the smudged lipstick and dilated pupils what had transpired in the kitchen, and she loved it. She cleared her own plate and leaned back in her chair. Looking at her sister, she said, "Can dishes wait for presents?" 

Alex laughed, wiping her mouth. "You're incorrigible." 

"This I knew. But you've been dangling this in front of me for months. I can't take it any more!" Emma leaned across Mark, grabbing her sister's hand. "Please?" 

Olivia stood, pushing her chair back. "I guess that's my cue to leave," she said, a hint of nerves invading her steady voice. As Emma opened her mouth to reply, Olivia shook her head, forestalling any argument. "I can't stay," she insisted. "I promised Elliot I'd drop by and watch the kids open my gifts." 

"You have to stay for pie," Emma replied, looking at Alexandra for help. 

Alex's lips puckered in disappointment, but her eyes were understanding. She rose from the table gently, moving to the end and waiting to show Olivia out. Emma rose as well, knowing she was beaten. "Do you want a doggie bag?" 

"No thanks." Olivia smiled genuinely. "It was great, though. Thanks for inviting me." She made a move for the door, turning to raise her hand at the others. "Nice seeing you again, Mark, Jessica." 

Jess smiled warmly and Mark nodded. Emma and Alex followed Olivia to the door, Alex grabbing Olivia's coat out of the closet on the way. Emma gave Olivia a hug, as was becoming custom for their meetings. "Thanks for coming. It was so nice having you here." 

"My pleasure." Olivia took her coat, stifling a grin as her hand brushed Alex's and she felt the blonde shiver. "Gimme a call some time," the detective said, feigning nonchalance. 

"Count on it," Alex replied, an amused half-smile on her face. She leaned around Olivia and opened the door, blue eyes meeting brown in a duel of amusement and arousal. More seriously, she said, "I'll call you at work once my apartment's set up and the phone's working. Okay?" 

"Sounds good." Olivia stepped out into the hall and risked a glance back at the pair of blonde tornados in the doorway. "Merry Christmas." She disappeared behind the elevator's sliding door. 

Alex raised her hand in farewell, but the chipped cream-colored paint had already swallowed the detective's beautiful face. She lingered in the doorway for a minute, feeling oddly bereft. Emma put a hand on her shoulder blades and guided her back in the apartment, waiting a full thirty seconds before asking again, "Presents?" 

Alex rolled her eyes, but smiled nonetheless. "Presents." 

* * *

The rest of the week flew by on winter wings. Alex returned to Westchester the day after Christmas to finish packing up her apartment, and drove back to the city on the twenty-eighth, finagling Emma, Mark and Jess into moving-in duty with the promise of beer and Emma's brownies. The newly engaged Emma didn't mind in the slightest, and Alexandra couldn't help but smile at how happy her sister was, even with the goofy perma-grin adorning her slight face. Now, the perma-grin kid and her fiancé were sitting in Alex's just-furnished apartment, begging her to go out with them for New Year's. And Alexandra Cabot, standing proud in her ratty sweats, law book in hand and glasses on, was forgoing the invitation, much to her sister's chagrin. 

"Alexandra, it's just dinner," Emma pleaded. "Come on. Once you start work on Tuesday, I'll never see you." 

"I live fifteen minutes from you," Alex replied pragmatically. "You'll see me just fine. I just want to have a relaxing evening, all right? We'll watch football tomorrow, and we'll have dinner on Friday, okay?" 

"You hate football." 

"I also hate pestering sisters who don't know how to take no for an answer." Alex's ADA tone made bystander Mark sink against the leather of the couch, feeling the stare that felt like air conditioning against the 75 degree heat of Alex's apartment. Finally, when the elder Cabot sighed and her shoulders dropped, Emma was declared the victor. 

Emma leapt off the couch and nearly tackled her sister. "You're going to have so much fun at Viva, Allie. Dancing, drinking, drinking, dancing!" She leaned back and clapped her hands. "The leather pants, baby. All you." 

Alex grimaced. "I'm going to regret this for the rest of my life." 

Emma ran to the kitchen and grabbed the bottle of brandy she knew her sister kept hidden. "Take a swig, you'll be fine." She handed her sister the cut-crystal decanter and held her hand out for Mark. "We'll congregate here about nine thirty, okay? Our reservation's at ten-fifteen; gives us plenty of time to walk over there." 

"You? Walking in winter?" Mark grabbed his coat. "Can't wait to see that." 

Emma glared at him, then hugged her sister. "See you in a few!" 

Alex watched them go, a sinking feeling in her chest. 

As they exited Alexandra's apartment building and hurried to the car, Emma pulled out her phone. Punching in her pre-programmed phone book, she waited for Olivia to pick up. 

"Detective Benson," Olivia answered hurriedly, striding away from the crime scene, thankful this was, for once, a simple homicide - nothing special about it. 

"You working?" Emma turned the car's heaters towards her, flipping them on full blast. 

"Was. I'm done. Why?" The detective's voice turned teasingly suspicious. 

"You, me. Salsa, margaritas, and a certain non-engaged Cabot in leather pants. You game?" Emma met her teasing tone, winking at Mark's disbelieving head shake. 

"Alex in leather pants?" Olivia mulled softly, once she was out of Elliot's earshot. "Black or red?" She loved to keep Emma on the edge. 

"Black. And, if I have my way - and you know I will - black, zip-up high-heeled boots, and a long-sleeved suede 'too sexy to be a work shirt' thing that makes a 'v' around her bellybutton. Hair up, most likely. And I hid her contacts, so you know what that means." 

Swallowing hard, Olivia nodded to herself, climbing into the unmarked sedan. "The gold-rimmed glasses. What time?"

Much to her fiancé's chagrin, Emma's smile multiplied in width. "Mark and I are leaving my place around nine. The wagon train'll be leaving Alex's - on 107th and Lexington - about nine-thirty. Where are you closer to?" 

"Lex," Olivia replied succinctly, as Elliot joined her, revving the car's engine and starting the heat. "Which apartment?" 

"904. Top floor. Hell of a view; you can see all the way to Times' Square from that thing." Emma started doing a little victory swagger in the passenger's seat. "We're doing dinner, dancing, and if we can get back to her place, we will, to see the ball drop. If not, you can just kiss her on the dance floor to ring in the new year." 

Tamping down the comment that rose in her throat, Olivia simply chuckled. "See you later." 

"Bye," Emma drawled, ending the phone call. 

"You..." Mark shook his head as he pulled into Emma's garage. "There are no words for you." 

"Thank God," Emma replied, leaning across the console for a kiss.

* * *

It was nearing nine-fifteen, and Alex stood in front of her bathroom mirror, still wrapped in a towel, hair stringy and wet, searching everywhere for her contact lenses. "Damn it!" she swore, slapping her hand on the Formica. She looked at the clock, muttering under her breath continuously as she dropped the towel on the bathroom floor and headed into her bedroom, eyeing the outfit Emma had ordered her to wear. _Poor cow,_ she thought. 

The doorbell rang, interrupting Alex's soft cursing. "I'm here!" The voice ringing through the apartment announced a familiar face, long-absent, peering around the door at the half-naked attorney. "Girl, you look like shit," Erin declared. "We're supposed to leave in fifteen minutes and you haven't even got your bra on!" she exclaimed with a shake of her raven-colored tresses. "Get your butt in gear, Alex." 

"I don't know what I did to deserve this," Alex replied, glancing over her shoulder at her old friend. Erin Jacobs had been her college roommate at Brown, and had fought tooth and nail against the University to let Emma stay in their room after leaving home, even going so far as to stage a sit-in within the president's office. She hadn't moved for two days, forcing the police to enter the office and drag her off campus, in handcuffs, to a cacophony of cheers and applause. Now, as a thirty-something, Erin still had that lean, athletic body so many craved, and the mouth to ward off any unwanted suitors. 

"You're cute," Erin replied saucily. "And as yet undressed. Come on," she clapped her hands. "Get a move on!" 

Alex sighed, moving into the bedroom. Dropping her robe, she quickly pulled on some undergarments, reaching for and quickly applying her favorite lotion. There were few times she indulged herself in things deemed "girly", such as bath salts and actual colored lipstick, rather than the soft neutrals she'd been wearing since age sixteen. Deftly, she slithered into the leather pants - a Christmas gift from that oh-so-subtle sister of hers - unable to resist running her palms over her thighs as she smoothed out the non-existent ridges in the tight pants. She pulled the suede shirt over her head and turned to look at Erin. "Do I look like a hooker yet?" 

"Not quite." Digging through Alex's jewelry box, Erin emerged triumphantly, palming a pair of silver hoop earrings. "Try these." 

"It was a rhetorical question," Alexandra replied, taking the earrings anyway. Sliding them through her ear, she brushed out her quickly-drying hair. "Up or down?" 

"Half up." Erin ducked into the bathroom and grabbed a brush, attacking the blonde mop with a vengeance. "You want to look cute, or sexy?" 

"What the hell. Sex me up." Alex paused for a minute, then looked at herself in the mirror. "Tell me I didn't just say that." 

"You did, but since I don't swing that way, I'm gonna let it pass," Erin giggled. "Besides, I hear you already have a date lined up for tonight." 

"What?" Alex's head turned so quickly that her chin connected with Erin's forearm. "What are you talking about?" 

Forcibly turning Alex's head back into position for her hairdressing, Erin continued brushing as she answered easily, "Emma says you're going with some cop. And not just any cop," she wiggled her eyebrows at her reflection in the mirror, "she's a, quote, beautiful, intelligent, ohmygodsexy detective, end quote." 

"I'm going to kill her." Alex's mouth was set, and if it wasn't for the sharp bristles in her hair, she would have set out pacing the carpet. "She set me up. Little sneak." 

"Well," Erin said, giving Alex's hair a yank to curtail any thoughts of escape, "the way I heard it, you already did the dirty with the detective. This is date number two, isn't it?" Answering herself, the woman said, "So it's not a setup so much as your sister facilitating your getting some much-needed action." 

"You know about that? No, wait, why am I surprised? Next thing you'll now, she'll have told the Post or something." Alex growled. "I don't know, Er. There's something about Olivia that keeps me close, but I don't think she feels the same way about me. And besides, we both know I don't do casual." 

"Well, yeah, but one can always hope. There," Erin proclaimed, spinning Alex to face her. She fluffed a few stray chunks of hair into place, reaching for the hairspray. "Don't be mad at Emma," Erin ordered Alex. "If it weren't for her, you'd never have had Sandy or Don; you'd be rotting among a tower of Chinese takeout cartons, or buried beneath a pile of law books, waiting for Prince or Princess Charming to come rescue you. Emma's the only one of us with realistic standards," Erin finished, giving Alex's cheek a tender pat. "So just relax and let her play matchmaker if she wants to. We're all the better for it." 

Alex regarded herself in the mirror, a content smile finally coming to her face. "I guess it's the perfect night to let go and start over, huh?" She rose, moving to the closet to find her boots. "I still hate it when you're right, though." 

Giggling, Erin chucked a scrunchie Alex's way. "I know, it's why I practice." 

There was a swift knock at the door, and Alex moved to open it. When she did, her sister whistled and Mark's jaw nearly hit the floor. In all the years he'd known the Cabot sisters - well, he never thought he'd see the day. 

"Shit, Allie," Emma breathed. "You look..." 

"Like a hooker," Alex supplied. 

Mark shook his head. "No, you don't." 

Both women turned and looked at him, brows furrowed. "And just how would you know that?" Emma asked, hands on hips. 

Appearing in the doorway behind Mark, the hall light created a halo effect around Olivia's dark hair, tucked neatly behind her ears. "I'm a sex crimes detective," she chimed in, appraising Alex openly. "I've seen hundreds of hookers in my time, and she looks nothing like a hooker. Maybe a thousand-dollar-an-hour escort," Olivia teased, trying to dam the rush of wetness Alex's outfit sent coursing from her center. "But not a common street whore." 

"Well, thank you, Detective Benson," Alex replied. "I think." She moved aside, allowing everyone to enter the apartment. She allowed herself to admire Olivia's jeans and how they hung perfectly around her ass before forcing her eyes up. "Is Jess coming, Em?" 

"She's picking up Tim and meeting us at the restaurant," Emma replied, heading to the kitchen and fishing in Alex's fridge for some wine. "We have time to hang before we need to leave. Drink?" she asked, offering the bottle up.

"Pass," Alex replied. "And I think you've had enough. I can smell you from over here." 

Emma shook her head, a goofy grin lazily gracing her face. "It's New Year's Eve, Allie. You can never have too much booze." 

"You trying to pickle yourself?" Olivia asked, trying to hide the note of concern in her voice as she joined Alex in ganging up on her sister. 

"No, fuddy duddies," Emma retorted. "Look, I'm just a little tipsy. I still have to walk to the restaurant; I won't get sloppy, I promise. Mark knows when to cut me off. So do you, Alexandra. And so does Jess. I'm just...happy."

"Fine," Alex replied. "But that's the only thing you're having at my house. I'm not carrying you to the restaurant." 

Emma leaned out of the kitchen and raised her glass in salute.

Alex shook her head, turning to Olivia.  "You want anything? Coffee? Beer? A ticket out of this crazy Cabot existence?" Alex asked.

"I'd love a cup of coffee." 

"You got it." Alex moved into the kitchen, leaving the smattering of people watching Dick Clark on her television. 

Emma skipped over to Olivia, her eyes cobalt from the alcohol. "I hope I'm not acting like an ass." 

"Nah, you're just...happy," Olivia echoed her with a worried grin. "Alex just wants to make sure you're not drowning yourself in alcohol to cover something else up." 

Emma shook her head and smiled. "For once, I really am just happy. She is, too, you know. Happy you're here, happy you can be together. That's all she's wanted for a long, long time." 

Her smile wavered a little as Olivia nodded. "Yeah, okay." 

"No, s'true. Not since Sandy died and Don left her have I seen her smile this much, or trust anyone. You're really good to her." Emma grinned. 

Her throat closed as Olivia's smile tightened into taut lips. "Sandy?" she asked, knowing full well she was taking advantage of Emma's intoxication. 

"Mmm," Emma hummed around her wineglass. "Alexandra's first...first love. She was a cop, like you. Some a-hole shot her up day before Valentine's Day about six years ago. She didn't have a chance." Emma looked in the general direction of the kitchen, hearing her sister bustling about. "Took her two years to even consider trying again, and then she met Don, who dumped her on her ass. Bastard." Emma shrugged. "But Sandy was the first, and probably the best." 

Her eyes widened perceptibly. "A cop, huh?" Olivia tried to sound casual. "Guess that's Alex's type." 

"Mmm," Emma chewed on her lip thoughtfully, albeit drunkenly. "I don't think she has a type. I mean, she likes strong, independent partners. All of her exes just happen to carry firearms. I don't know, I think maybe she remembers how Sandy was and has tried to capture that again, psychologically going after the same type of person - a cop. You know?" 

"Yeah, I know." And she did; Olivia knew fully how a person, torn away from someone in an unspeakable tragedy, could go after the same 'type' in an unconscious effort to re-create their lost love. At first, the detective wasn't certain that she wasn't doing the same with Alex - trying to bring back Melissa, the first woman she'd been interested in. Like Alex, Melissa was an ADA; she had died at the hands of a serial rapist. Unlike Alex, though, Melissa had been possessive, needy to the point of suffocating, and far too quick to assume a relationship with the detective that didn't exist, at least for Olivia's tastes.  Olivia had thought, however briefly, that maybe she was trying to recreate the Melissa she wished had been there in the first place.

Emma nodded. "I figured you would. You're smart like that." She started to giggle, as if something was tickling the underside of her chin. "Your kids are going to have some really big IQs," she hiccupped. "You and my sister procreating. Look out, MENSA!" 

She tilted her head back and laughed, causing Alex to come out of the kitchen and deftly swipe the wineglass out of Emma's hand before the new beige carpet was splattered with Cabernet. "You're cut off, kid." 

"Aw," Emma replied, but shushed after Alex narrowed her eyes. "No matter. We need to go now. Chop suey!" 

Alex shook her head, putting the wineglass in her sink. As Mark helped Emma with her coat, Alex placed a light, tentative hand on Olivia's shoulder. "I'm sorry about that. I didn't realize how bad she was." 

"I - No, it's okay," Olivia offered, her mouth tightening further. "I'm sorry, but I have to go." 

"Oh." The surprise was evident in Alex's voice. "I know Emma can be a pain in the ass, but you don't have to go. I mean, if you want to stay here, with me, we could...talk." She knew she was grasping at straws, and part of her didn't care. 

"This has nothing to do with Emma," Olivia lied deftly. "I just got paged; it's work. I'll call you." The words were out of her mouth before she could censor herself. "Sorry. Have a good night." Olivia turned and was gone. 

As she tramped through the snow to her car, Olivia's mind spun in circles. Kids, Emma had said. Kids - hers and Alex's. Her dead lover, her first real love, was a cop. First Sandy, then Cragen. She was just a replacement, second in an inevitably unending parade of people superficially like the woman lost, but whose interiors could not help but sharply diverge from the memory. Angry with herself for falling for it - _Again_, Olivia thought - she slammed the car door and welcomed the freezing cold leather, chilling her skin through her jeans. 

Cursing the fearless abandon that had gotten her to this place once more, Olivia shifted the car into drive and peeled away from the curb. "Fuck," she muttered, fighting a losing battle again the rage tearing her up inside. 

The sidewalks were alive with the sights and sounds of parties; New Year's Eve decorated Manhattan with an overflow of sparkles and confetti accents. Her unrepentant anger at odds with the celebratory mood, Olivia tried to concentrate on getting home. Her mood darkened as she crossed through midtown. 

"Fuck, fuck, **fuck**!" Olivia screamed suddenly, pounding her hand against the wheel. "Just **once**," Olivia fumed aloud, her eyes black with fury. At one time directed at Peter Kelleher, they lingered now on the mental image of his stepdaughter. "Just **once**, can't I get it right? 

Fuck you!" she raged into the night.   
  


* * *  
  


Leather pants hanging in the closet again, boots lined back up beside running shoes, Alex sat in dimmed light, a lone candle burning on her coffee table. Her hair was brushed out, pulled into a simple ponytail, and her feet were tucked up under well-worn sweatpants. Dick Clark was muted on the television; her law book and highlighter lay abandoned on the far end of the couch. After Olivia had left her standing in the doorway, running away as quickly as her slender legs could carry her, Alex had tried to find logic - any kind - to try and explain how and why Olivia Benson could run from her at lightning speed. Alex wasn't sure what Emma had said, and she knew she would never find out the contents of that conversation; Emma was far too "happy" to remember anything concrete. But this time, it wasn't about Emma, or what she may have said. Instead, it was about two women, obviously attracted to each other, who had acted impulsively on that attraction and who were now floundering against the aftermath. Alex knew she wanted Olivia, but even that slyly simple declaration was covered in thorns. Like she had confessed to Erin earlier in the evening, she wasn't one for casual, and after all the pain of losing Sandy and having the relationship with Don not work out, she barely even tried anymore. She was content with her life, her work. And now, that tried and true independence and solitude was crumbling under the visage of one detective. 

Alex got up and paced the room, trying to think among the noisemakers and Auld Lang Syne. She was scared shitless; this was as obvious as the tons of confetti raining down from the skies. Scared of what Olivia's mere presence did to her, the desire Alex felt in the pit of her stomach when in close contact. But she liked the fear, and had started to embrace it...and then Olivia walked out. The disappointment was harder to embrace, especially with Alexandra's inner acceptance that it was probably the last time she'd see Olivia Benson on the other side of her apartment door. She wouldn't push, wouldn't pry; Olivia was a grown woman who knew how to dial a phone. And Alex, at the end of the day, still had her Cabot pride, and would not find herself chasing after someone who obviously didn't want to be with her. 

She stopped pacing. She walked over to the sliding door and placed a hand against the cold glass, closing her eyes momentarily. She turned away, closing the blinds. Blowing out her candle and closing her law book, Alex went into the bedroom. Alone.

THE END


	5. Continuance

The first day wasn't as hard as Olivia had imagined. It was as easy as a reciprocated nod as they passed in the entry hall, a civil inquiry after how the ADA was finding her new job when they met at the coffee machine and a simple "Thanks" when the detective was presented with a new file. The first week went by in much the same way. Olivia did her best to stay out of the station house on investigations or imaginary errands; sensing the tension, Elliot did his best to run interference between his partner and the new ADA. He found Alex professionally as he'd found her personally - determined and strong, but with a compassionate side when it was warranted. However, Elliot could easily see where the stubborn streak in each woman had clashed with the other's, causing the very-obvious cold veneer of civility between them now. 

It wasn't that Alex was avoiding the SVU squad room either, per se; she really did have a thousand piles of papers to sort through during the first weeks as counsel for the unit. And Alexandra certainly wasn't avoiding a certain detective in the unit, because to avoid her would imply there was something to avoid. Olivia had made it clear on New Year's Eve - and Alexandra concurred - that those kisses, flirts, and that one night of lovemaking were a sexually charged overreaction in the aftermath of Emma's abduction. They just needed to move past it, reaffirm their professional responsibilities, and everything would be fine. 

Emma kept telling her that it was all bullshit semantics, but Alex wasn't so sure anymore. She and Olivia hadn't ever really connected on a level that would allow them to move past their obvious reluctance and histories, and Alex knew her focus needed to be on fitting into the inner workings of the Manhattan DA's office, not on Olivia Benson. So the nods would continue, the brief good mornings, and honest but swift congratulations after a job well done, until she regained her equilibrium around the brunette, and the sensory memory of Olivia's mouth on hers had passed. 

Their arrangement was working out perfectly, at least in Olivia's mind. She hardly had to deal with the fluttering in her stomach that was caused by proximity to Alex; she didn't need to worry about how she'd get a sharp pang of need every once in a while, wishing she could feel a certain pair of slender arms around her waist. Olivia had dealt with loneliness and the pain of rejection for more years than she cared to count. It didn't matter that this time, she'd been the one to "reject" Alex's advances; Olivia felt she'd had no choice, considering that she was simply a poor substitute for Alex's first love - and that her supervisor had attempted to play the same role. Olivia had to force that thought from her mind every time she was alone in a room with Cragen. No matter that he was the best boss she'd ever had, or the kindest man she knew, the idea of his hands on Alex turned Olivia's stomach for a reason she couldn't finger. 

Officially, Donald Cragen didn't know why Benson and the new ADA seemingly didn't get along. Unofficially - thanks to his own observations, and weekly conversations with a certain blabbermouth named Emma Katherine - there was no uncertainty as to why the air temperature dropped twenty degrees when brown eyes stared into blue. He wouldn't say anything; he'd go along with their little game of silent denial. 

Emma, on the other hand, wouldn't. She eased Olivia into her conversations with her sister, much to Alexandra's chagrin. They had actually ceased speaking for a week, after Alex finally lost it and screamed at her sister to leave it alone. It served to prove to Emma Alex's repressed discomfort at avoiding Olivia. But, as the lesser romantic in their relationship, Mark pointed out that even if Emma prayed every night and pushed and prodded as she did so well, it was up to Alex and Olivia. So Emma had sat back, pouted, continued to pray, but said nothing. Besides beauty and brains, her sister and Olivia had stubbornness as a bonding element. 

The weeks turned into months, and the months started adding up. The initial chill dissipated as Alex's conviction rate started inching up, and as the other detectives in SVU got used to her style. Her butterflies around Olivia - the ones that under oath, she'd deny - started to disappear as well.

As the months passed, Olivia started to calm down. After a while, she was even able to hold a short conversation about the weather or current events with Alex, without wondering if she was seeing anyone or how she was doing, underneath her professional shell of perfection. 

"Your Honor..." Alex's tone had been impatient, but was now bordering on pleading. 

"I've made my ruling, Miss Cabot," Judge Waters replied. "Your detectives broke the chain of custody, thus rendering that DNA evidence inadmissible." 

"It's not inadmissible by the law, it's inadmissible by you," Alex replied angrily. "That evidence conclusively links the defendant to the rape of a thirteen-year-old girl. The evidence was not tainted, as proven by serologists for both the defense and the People. Let the jury decide whether or not it was compromised." 

"You actually want me to leave this complexity up to the civilians?" Waters shook his head. "No way, ADA Cabot. You can proceed to trial with the other allowed evidence." 

"Do you really think the people of New York are that idiotic, Your Honor?" 

"No, Miss Cabot, but I think that if you continue to argue with me, you'll be spending time in jail for contempt." The stare between Waters and Alex lasted a good minute before Waters continued. "The DNA evidence is out." 

"People request a continuance, Your Honor," Alex seethed, her teeth clenched, her knuckles gripping the dais. 

"So ordered. Defendant's remand continued. Next case."

The sounding of the gavel smothered Alex's curt, "Fuck". She collected her things, and herself somewhat, and headed upstairs. This was the second case in a month that had been compromised; she was able to save the first, but this one was down the toilet and unsalvageable. She entered the Unit, catching Cragen's eye as she approached Olivia and Elliot's desks. "Evidence bags, kids. Ever heard of them?" 

Cragen narrowed his gaze on her. "What's with the bitch mode?" 

"Ralph Edwards," Alex replied. "DNA was thrown out." 

"Fuck," Olivia echoed Alex's sentiments. "Goddamn uniforms from the six-three," she muttered rancidly. "Can't search a house properly, can't do anything right. I **told** Jackie to wait for us...fuck!" she repeated in an undertone. 

"Maybe you should have used smaller, easier words," Alex replied. "But it wasn't the contamination Waters was worried about; it was your little side trip on the way back to the lab. Edwards' attorney said chain of custody was broken, and Waters agreed." 

"That's bull," Elliot replied. 

"Not really," Alex shook her head. "You left the evidence unattended for a short time. Further contamination could've occurred." 

Elliot stared at her in disbelief. "It was in a locked trunk, Alex." 

"Waters doesn't care, and frankly, neither do I. This is the second case in a month that you've threatened. You're getting sloppy." 

Olivia stood so fast her chair rolled back and slammed into the wall. "Excuse me?" Her voice shifted into a lethally cold tone. "Sloppy? We stopped to pick up the **victim**. She was half-naked, wandering down the street. Was I supposed to just sit in the car to baby-sit the evidence, which was **locked up**," Olivia snapped out, "while Elliot tried to get a terrified thirteen-year-old into the car himself? This was a girl who'd just been repeatedly **raped**, may I remind you. She was in no condition to cooperate with either of us alone." Her stare was unforgiving, her arms crossed over her chest. "Sloppy, my ass, ADA Cabot," Olivia spat. 

"There were uniforms all over the place," Alex replied. "You could have used that beautiful invention known as a radio to call back-up. As it is, your victim is screwed because of you. She's not going to see her rapist put to justice. So, yes, Detective Benson, you were sloppy." 

Her heart pounded with fury as Olivia shook her head minutely. _You didn't just go there._ "I'm so sloppy that I've managed to crack forty-two cases that other cops thought were impossible," she vindicated herself. "I'm so sloppy that I have the best track record in the fucking **Precinct**. I'm so sloppy that I found your **sister** when Missing Persons didn't have a clue, and everyone else was stumped." Olivia didn't hesitate as Alex's face changed rapidly. "Imagine that were Emma," she said, loud enough for her colleagues to keep up with the argument, half-wondering why Cragen hadn't intervened yet. After all, the woman she was attacking was the former love of his life, Olivia realized as she continued. "You want me to let her wander in circles, shirtless, and bleeding from her face, because she was beaten half to unconsciousness, and from between her legs, because he raped her so viciously that he tore her uterus practically in two?" The detective painted a graphic picture of the victim. "You would've let Emma stay outside in that condition, expecting me to think to pick up the radio before getting her off the street?" Olivia shook her head. "Then you're heartless." 

"That's enough," Cragen ordered, watching Alex take half a step back, her mouth falling open, her eyes turning from familiar angry gray to a shocked, hurt crystalline blue. "Take a walk, Benson." 

Stifling a 'Fuck you', Olivia shook her head and sank back into her chair. "I have work to do." 

"I need to get back to my office." Alex found her voice, surprisingly neutral, even as rage, lined with hurt, slid through her. "Just be more careful next time, all right?" She turned and left, her breathing and heart rates starting to return to normal levels. 

Cragen watched Benson for a minute before returning to his office wordlessly. As soon as the bullpen was cleared of ADAs and Captains, Elliot let out a whistle. "Nice job, Liv." 

"She had it coming," Olivia replied carefully. "Don't tell me how to do my fucking job." 

"I hear ya," Elliot replied. 

"Kind of a low blow, mentioning the kid sister," Munch commented. "But it was nice to see that debutante smirk wiped right off her face." 

She suddenly had the urge to defend the ADA, but Olivia fought it. "Well, I just wanted her to see the decision Elliot and I had to make. We didn't have a choice, that's all." 

"Good job on both counts," Munch confirmed, moving to the coffee maker to refill his cup. 

Alex, meanwhile, had returned to her office. She turned her chair towards the window, looking out over the bustling city. Her rage had begun to diminish, with embarrassment taking over. _You got personal first, Alex,_ her conscience reprimanded. The phone rang and she tilted her arm back, grabbing the receiver uncomfortably. "Alexandra Cabot." 

"You proud of yourself?" Cragen's deep voice filled her head, and she sighed. 

"Not particularly," she confided. "I was pissed at Waters, and I took it out on them." 

"As your sister is so fond of saying, duh," Cragen replied gently. "You all right?" 

"I'll bounce back," Alex replied. "Just don't give them a picture of me to use as target practice, and we're fine." 

Cragen chuckled. "Just wanted to check in on you." 

"Thanks," Alex responded, surprised by the gesture and honesty. "I'll talk to you later." 

"Yup." Cragen disconnected, leaving Alex with a confused look on her face briefly, before she moved back to Edwards' file, hoping to find a way to save the case.   
  


* * *  
  


Out of the corner of his eye, Elliot saw his partner's black pants and violet-blue shirt re-enter the squad room. He looked up, leaning back in his chair, deftly catching the sandwich she threw him. "You missed quite the scene earlier," he commented. "Julie Cahill and her mom were hugging everyone in sight - including Munch and Cragen," the detective added as he slipped out to get drinks from the vending machine.

"Ew. Someone hugged Munch - on **purpose**?" Olivia teased, loud enough for the detective to hear, as she tossed him a Reuben on rye. "That must mean we won." 

"What can I say? I'm a warm and cuddly guy." Munch's reply was characteristically sardonic. 

Elliot laughed, returning with two sodas and handing one to Olivia. "Apparently, Cabot nailed Ralph Edwards to the wall, even without the DNA evidence. The cheer that went up in the courtroom was almost deafening." 

"Thank God." Olivia unwrapped her liverwurst sandwich and popped the top on a Coke. "So that's one less pedophile on the street."

"All in a day's work." Fin grinned at her from across the squad room; Cassidy's replacement was fitting in nicely at SVU. 

The tall blonde, clad in jeans, a black long-sleeved shirt and a three-quarter length coat caught Elliot's attention, and he did a double take. Finally, he caught Olivia's eye and motioned to Emma Cabot lingering in the doorway. "Long time no see," he called, and Emma grinned. 

"Well, you haven't needed redecorating in the past year, and I haven't been kidnapped. But hey, there are still a couple of months left; maybe we'll get lucky." 

Elliot nodded. "Nice ring," he commented, pointing to the solitaire on Emma's left hand. "When's the big day?" 

"Two weeks," Emma replied, bridal nerves entering her voice. "Two weeks or Vegas, whichever comes first." 

Elliot grinned. "I remember that feeling. So what brings you downtown, Miss Cabot?" 

"I wanted to see your pretty face and have one last fling with Munch," Emma replied, adjusting her purse. 

Munch looked up, waggling his eyebrows. "There's no one in the crash room." 

"Let me just talk to Cragen, and then I'm all yours, Loverboy." Emma giggled, looking at Olivia studiously avoiding any interaction in the banter. "Hi, Detective Benson." 

"Emma," Olivia said simply. 

_Well, at least she's consistent in her apparent dislike of the Cabots,_ Emma thought. "Well, excuse me." She headed back to Donald's office, knocking once before entering. He dropped his pen and raised his eyebrows. "You rob Neiman Marcus again?" 

"No, Bloomie's." 

"Well, a little variety never hurt anyone," Cragen teased, indicating she should sit. "What's up?" 

"Honestly?" Emma hedged slightly before answering. "I was downtown for a fitting, and stopped by to see Alex. And then, for whatever reason, I found myself wanting to come and see my favorite detectives." 

"Bull. You wanted to come see Olivia and yell at her for that incident with your sister two weeks ago." Cragen shook his head. "Leave it, Em. It's nobody's business." 

"I don't even care if they're together romantically anymore," Emma replied. "It just pains me to think that their fear is going to prevent them from at least being friends, you know?" 

"I know it's tough for you to sit back and watch," Cragen replied. "But they're brilliant women, Em. If they're supposed to figure it out, they will. Until then, focus on your wedding." 

Emma nodded. After a moment, she said, "Even if things are...weird between you, Alex and Olivia, you'll still walk me down the aisle, right?" 

Cragen's smile was wider than it had been in years. "Emma..." He looked across the desk at the young woman who had, in many respects, changed the course of the last few years of his life. "I trust Benson; she's one of the best detectives I've ever seen. But you and Alex..." he drifted off before nodding his head seriously at Emma. "I will be at Saint Timothy's next Saturday, promptly at one o'clock. Count on it." 

Emma nodded back with a moderately watery grin. She rose from the chair and leaned over the desk, hugging him awkwardly. "I'll see you later." 

"Bye, kiddo." Cragen opened the door for her and watched her step out into the bullpen. 

Emma offered a small wave over her shoulder and was preparing to head into the afternoon sunshine when she stopped at Olivia's desk. "Hey. I'm sorry to bother you, but uh..." She cleared her throat, fidgeting. "I never got a reply to the wedding invitation. I was just wondering if you were going to come." 

"Oh." Olivia glanced from Elliot to Emma. "I...didn't think...you know, that'd you'd want me there. I mean, it's not exactly been comfortable." She didn't say 'between Alex and me'; Emma knew, and the detectives didn't need to. 

"I sent you the invitation, didn't I?" Emma tilted her head and watched Olivia's eyes dance with discomfort. "Things haven't been...comfortable...with you and my sister for quite some time. But yes, I would still like you there. And it's not any kind of..." she trailed off, nearly saying 'set up', but then remembered the rest of the detectives probably didn't - and shouldn't -  know about the romantic side to Olivia and Alexandra. "There are no master plans in place; we've crossed and burned that bridge. I just think it would be fun to have you there." 

"Burned, what an appropriate word." The corner of Olivia's mouth turned up as she glanced around at the other detectives, who were pretending to work and not eavesdrop. "Can we talk somewhere, just for a minute?" 

"Sure, lead the way." Emma stepped back from the desk, following Olivia into one of the smaller side interrogation rooms. 

Closing the door, Olivia turned to Emma, sighing. "Listen, Em, I want to come Saturday, I really do. But I don't think Alex will be too happy to see me there, and frankly, she's your sister. She's got dibs." 

"The two of you are impossible, you know that?" Emma shook her head. "It's my goddamn wedding, Olivia, and if you want to be there, and I want you there, then you're there. End of story. Alexandra doesn't have to talk to you, and you don't have to talk to her. Bring a date - what was that guy's name you brought to Christmas last year? Find him." She sighed. "I think the two of you could be great friends. You have far too much in common not to be. But I'm through pushing and prodding for anything more. You've made up your minds, and I'm not going to change 'em." 

Taken aback, Olivia fumbled for the words. "We'd probably still be together, making each other miserable," she admitted before her self-censor caught up to her tongue. "If you hadn't told me what you did." 

"What?" Emma shook her head, trying to shake some comprehension between her ears. "What are you talking about?" 

"You know." Olivia chuckled wryly as she realized Emma didn't remember their conversation. "You were the one who told me about Sandy and Donald. I probably would've let Alex continue trying to replace Sandy, this time with me, if you hadn't. I never did thank you for that." 

"Olivia, are you on drugs?" Emma's eyes were green in confusion. "Replace Sandy? Are you kidding me?" 

"Yeah." Olivia sighed softly. "I like Alex, a lot, but I can't be anybody's second choice. And it's not fair to her, either," the detective continued quietly. "She needs to deal with the loss before she tries to move on." 

Emma stuttered for a good thirty seconds before reaching out and grabbing Olivia's hand. "Honey, let me tell you one thing about my sister, okay? She's dealt with Sandy's death. She **has** moved on. To Don, to others like him...to you. She's not trying to replace anybody." Emma sighed, searching for the right words. "I told you once, a long time ago, that we fall in love with who we fall in love with, end of story. Alexandra is drawn to strong, independent, powerful people, but she doesn't seek them out, and she certainly has not spent the past seven years trying to find Sandy again. She knows she can't. And she's accepted that, embraced it. Sandy was her first, but not her last." Emma stepped back, pacing. "She likes **you**, Olivia Benson. You, the one who she trusted enough to hold her hand while I was gone, the one she opened herself up to, the one she still misses." Emma bit her lip.  "You are, in no way, shape or form, a replacement for anyone. You're unique to her heart." 

"She misses me?" The comment, made under Olivia's breath, hung in the air between her and Emma. The enormity of what she'd done rushed at Olivia's heart within her aching chest. 

Emma's eyes were gentle. "Of course she does, hon. Have you looked at you?" She stepped back closer to Olivia, placing a hand on her bicep. "Come on Saturday if you want to. That instinct of yours will tell you what's right." 

Her eyes betrayed her stunned mind even as Olivia nodded slowly. She barely felt Emma's gentle hand, bringing memories of Alex's touch to the surface. "I'll be there," she said quietly. "For you," Olivia emphasized. 

"I'm glad," Emma replied. "I have to run. Flower arranging and whatnot." She squeezed Olivia's arm gently before heading back towards the door. "It's okay if you change your mind, Liv." She opened the door, smiling at the detectives as she passed, and finally exited the building, her step lighter, a small, but obviously satisfied smile, curling the edges of her mouth. 

Going back to her desk, Olivia eyed the phone. Only Elliot's presence kept her from picking it up and calling Alex right then - well, Elliot and her own fear. _How can I call?_ Olivia asked herself. _After the way I walked out on her. I didn't even say goodbye - I didn't give her the chance to explain. How can I just pop back into her personal life? We've just now started to have a good working relationship - despite that fight the other day. I can't jeopardize that. And..._ she sighed mentally. _I couldn't take it if she couldn't forgive me. I'd rather go on not knowing._   
  


* * *  
  


Alex checked her watch as she entered the squad room, knowing she was running slightly late for her prep session with Olivia. Coming into the bullpen, the small smattering of applause caught her off-guard, and she smiled, embarrassed. "Does this make up for the attitude from a couple of weeks ago?" she asked. 

"It's a start," Elliot replied. 

Alex smiled, looking for Olivia. "Benson here? We have to prep for her testimony." 

Elliot motioned to the back of their offices. "She was back there." 

"Thanks." Alex walked towards the interview room, knocking lightly on the door. "Hey." 

Glancing up from her pad, where she was expanding on her shorthand notes from a recent interview with a suspect, Olivia nodded cordially. "ADA." She looked confused until it clicked in her head. "Oh, my prep," she said, realizing why Alex was there. "Where do you wanna do it?" 

Alex couldn't keep the amused expression off her face. "Well, your place is closer." She sat down and cleared her throat uncomfortably, pulling out her own legal pad, trying to get the recesses of her brain out of the gutter. "I'm going to try and keep your testimony as short as possible; defense is gunning for any and all of the cops involved with his client, for whatever reason." Alex shrugged, uncapping her pen. "I love fishing expeditions, don't you?" 

"They're usually unsuccessful," Olivia commented, leaning back in her chair and trying not to be obvious as she appraised Alex. The woman looked good, Olivia had to admit - better than when she'd started the job. She seemed more in control, more powerful. Maybe it was just an illusion of the office - Olivia could see Alex as DA someday. 

"Yeah. This one's a slam dunk." She licked her lips, writing her own shorthand as she ticked the questions for Olivia's testimony off in her head. "We'll start with the basics; how you got the call, the scene upon your arrival, any assessments you made when you got there. Petrovsky's already granted my motion to consider you and Elliot expert witnesses, so it'll be tougher for the defense to batter you down." Alex looked up, her breath catching in her throat upon realizing Olivia was wearing the blue three-quarter sleeved shirt that did her in every time she saw it. "Anyway...how did you get the call?" 

Olivia went through all the details with Alex, from the first alert that SVU had received, through the arrest and interrogation of the defendant in the rape-homicide case. When they'd finished, Olivia could tell that most of the tension from the other day had dissipated, and she and Alex were back to a civil, if not friendly, working relationship again. So she took a chance and said, "Listen, about the other day...I'm sorry. I just had to show you that Elliot and I did what we felt was right at the time." 

Alex leaned back in her chair, crossing her legs. "I should be apologizing to you. I was pissed at Waters, and I took it out on you. That wasn't fair. You and Elliot are two of the damn finest police officers I've ever seen, regardless of rank, and I know what you did for Julie was right. I just lost it, and you happened to be in the warpath. It was wrong. I'm sorry." The ease with which Alex apologized was uncharacteristic, and it should have been; she'd been rehearsing her apology to Olivia for weeks now. 

The moment she'd dreaded had passed, and Olivia felt a weight lift off her shoulders. "Thanks. That means a lot. It also makes it easier to tell you that I'm going to Emma's wedding on Saturday," she blurted. 

Caught off guard, Alex smiled after a minute. "Well, that's great. I know she really wanted you there. I'm surprised she didn't tell me you RSVPed, though." 

"I hadn't. She shanghaied me into agreeing this morning." 

"Ah. I know the feeling well." Alex smiled again, tapping her pen against the edge of the table. Typical Emma; bully people into doing what you want them to do. "Well, I'll see you there. I'll be the bridesmaid in the Tiffany blue dress. Can't miss me." 

"Blue's my favorite color," Olivia offered a grin. "Wait - you're not the maid of honor?" 

Alex chuckled. "Emma couldn't decide between Jess and me for that honor. So she did the only thing she could do - flipped a coin. Jess won, which is perfectly fine with me; I don't have time to book the stripper or buy the disgusting cards for the bachelorette party. But we'll both toast them, which will be nice." She packed her pad back in her briefcase, risking another look at Olivia. "You bringing James? Or are you initiating another poor soul?" 

"Uhm, no." Olivia's smile disappeared. "I'm coming alone." 

"Oh." They sat in silence for a minute before Alexandra motioned to the door. "Well, I should go attack the pile of paperwork on my desk. You're perfect for the trial." She rose, slipping her blazer back on. "I guess I'll see you on Saturday." 

Olivia nodded, watching Alex as she left, and wondering what Saturday would be like.   
  


* * *  
  


It started gray and rainy, like most New York fall mornings. The phone rang, stirring Olivia from her restless slumber. "May I speak to Olivia Benson?" the happy caller chirped. 

Olivia quickly ran through a list of people she'd talk to at that hour - the voice was none of them. "It's eight thirty on a Saturday morning," she growled unpleasantly. "I don't fucking think so." She hung up firmly, rolling over and snuggling back down. 

Across town, Alexandra's reception to her wakeup call was quite similar to Olivia's. Unfortunately for Alex, Emma continued to call until the ADA tone snapped out of her sister. "Emma Katherine Cabot, if you call me one more time, I will lock you up and you will have no wedding day, do you understand me?" 

"Allie, come on," Emma pleaded. "I need you here." 

"That's what Jess is for, sweetheart," Alex replied sweetly, turning over on her stomach. "I'm meeting you at the hotel at 11. That means I have another hour and a half to sleep." 

"I hate that it's only going to take you an hour to get ready for my wedding." Emma paused, and Alex half-hoped her sister would give up. "Allie, please. I need you over here." 

Alex sighed, raising her head at her mocking alarm clock. "All right. I'll be there in an hour." 

"Half an hour. You can get ready here." 

"Okay," Alex relented, hoisting herself out of bed with a groan. 

The rest of the day had gone, as Emma described it, fairy-tale perfectly. Alex succeeded in convincing her sister that rain on her wedding day was good luck, and not a cruel joke from God or the weather guy solely meant to mess up her hair. The ceremony was simple but moving, the bridesmaids' dresses weren't as hideous as once feared, the flowers were perfect, and neither Mark nor Emma passed out. The small gathering of friends and family - about fifty in number - moved to Emma's favorite restaurant, Viva (which she proudly told anyone and everyone that she'd redecorated) for the reception. As Emma and Mark danced to 'Have a Little Faith In Me', Alex lingered at one of the tables, watching her sister glow. She felt a strong arm wrap around her waist and she smiled up at Donald. "I saw you getting a little misty-eyed during the ceremony there, Captain Cragen." 

"I'll deny it to the fullest extent of the law," Cragen replied, taking her wine glass and setting it on the table. "Care to dance, counselor?" 

Alex grimaced at the thought of dancing in front of everyone, but acquiesced, allowing Don to drag her to the dance floor. Emma winked at her as she and Cragen started a slow sway to the music. "She's so happy," Alex commented, watching Mark whisper into Emma's ear. 

"Yes, she is," Cragen agreed. "She deserves it." 

"More than most," Alex agreed, allowing him to turn her gently. "Still haven't lost your touch, I see." 

Cragen laughed, a sound Alex missed hearing. "I'm a little rusty." He let a few more refrains pass before he regarded the statuesque blonde in his arms. "Have you talked to her?" 

Alex's brow furrowed before comprehension set in. "Not tonight," she admitted. "I need a little bit more liquid courage." 

Cragen shook his head, pulling Alex closer. "You're the bravest person I know, Cabot. You don't need any help going after what you want." 

The song ended, and Alex broke the embrace, kissing Cragen's cheek before Emma grabbed Donald's hand. "You promised me a dance, el capitan." 

Cragen rolled his eyes teasingly. "Two Cabots in one night. I'd be crazy to say no." 

"Not many have said no and lived to tell the tale," Emma agreed. Alex smiled and headed back to her table, watching Emma giggle in Don's fatherly, protective arms. 

Olivia leaned against the wall, arms crossed over the front of her mock-tuxedo jacket. She watched Cragen and Emma with a half-smile, taking note of Alex stepping away from the dance floor, but not noticing where she went. Her mind was far away. 

Stabler headed over to the bar, getting drinks for himself and his wife, when he saw Olivia staring out into nothingness. He nudged her shoulder as he waited for the bartender to fill his order. "You look nice, Liv." 

Olivia turned and looked him over, her grin widening even as she blushed. "Thanks. You're not so bad yourself." 

"Kath dressed me," Elliot offered in explanation. "Can you believe this place?" He motioned to the blues and whites, candlelight and white Christmas lights draping every conceivable edge of the light wood decor of the restaurant. "And to think I get to look forward to this three times over." 

"It looks incredible," Olivia agreed. Grinning, she added teasingly, "You may only do it twice - one of the kids could be gay, you know." 

"They'd still want a big party, and then they'd say, 'Well, all the other kids got one', and they'd be right." Elliot shook his head. "Either way, I'm screwed." 

Laughing softly, Olivia nodded agreement, reaching for her vodka. "Just plan on being poor forever. This is why I don't have kids." 

Elliot chuckled. "Don't count it out just yet," he said, motioning back to Kathy, deep in conversation with another guest. "Better go deliver these. You find me if you feel like dancing. Can't have Cragen upstage us." 

"Sure, me with kids," Olivia chuckled as Elliot moved off. "Maybe in another lifetime." 

Emma moved off the dance floor, allowing Mark to dance with his mother. She greeted most of the guests on the way, sighing as she hoisted herself and her dress onto a barstool. "Can I just have a glass of water, please? Thanks." Emma looked around and noticed Olivia. Easing back off the stool, she sidled up next to the brunette, leaning her elbows on the bar. "I'm glad you came." 

Olivia turned and smiled at Emma. "Congratulations. You and Mark look so cute together." 

"Thanks. It's weird, though, thinking about me married." Emma shrugged, the lace of her gown rising up her bare shoulders as she did so. Her next comment was cut off by Jessica's voice, introducing herself and Alex. Mark joined Emma at the bar, taking her hand in his as Jess and Alex started their toast. 

"We've known you through the laughter and the tears," Jessica began. "We've known you in the dusk and the twilight." 

"We know your intricacies and quirks. We know your quick wit and loving mind, your bright giggle and even brighter smile," Alex continued, winking at her sister. 

"We know you when you're cranky, when you're flying, soaring into tomorrow. We know when you have your feet on the ground—" 

"Hardly ever," Alex interrupted, causing slight laughter to ripple through the audience. "We know your patience, your kindness, your love of life. We know your strength, everlasting and true. We know how much we love you, Emma Katherine." Alex and Jessica raised their glasses. "To Emma and Mark. We love you both." 

"Hear, hear," the crowd replied, applauding as Emma leaned over and kissed her husband. The lights in the room dimmed, and Martina McBride's 'Valentine' filled the room as a slideshow of Emma and Mark through the years started on a large video screen in the back of the restaurant. Alex and Jess made their way over to Emma and Mark, and Alex handed her sister a hankie. She and Jess had worked all night on the surprise slideshow, and she knew Emma would never get through it without having to reapply her makeup. Mark scooted away from Emma, allowing Alex to come over and wrap an arm around her baby sister, resting a cheek on top of Emma's head. She caught Olivia's eye and smiled. "Hi." 

"Hi," Olivia mouthed silently, unwilling to interrupt the familial moment. 

"Okay, I officially hate you," Emma declared, giving her sister a tight hug after the video had finished. "That was beautiful, Allie. Thank you." 

"Congratulations, baby sister," Alex replied softly, tears threatening. 

Emma stepped back, dabbing at her eyes. Jess took her hand immediately, starting towards the ladies' room. "Emergency application." 

Emma nodded. "I figured." She squeezed Alex's hand again, then smiled at Mark. "Be right back." 

Mark nodded, then leaned down and gave Alex a hug. "That was precious," he said quietly. "Thanks, Alex." 

"Thanks for taking her off my hands," Alex grinned, smiling hello to Mark's mother as she approached. 

"Mark, honey, your Aunt Carol has to leave. Can you and Emma say goodbye?" 

Mark nodded at his mother, then turned back to Alex and Olivia. "Duty calls." 

Alex leaned against the bar, ordering another glass of Cabernet before looking Olivia over. "You look nice." 

Olivia began to wonder if she might be glued to the little movable bar. "Thanks." Her eyes slid over Alex's body, clad in the strapless, light blue dress that hugged the blonde's hips, and fell in a soft A-line from bodice to knees. Olivia licked her lips, in appreciation or anticipation, she couldn't have said. 

"You having a good time?" Alex asked. "Food okay, and all that?" 

"Absolutely." Olivia smiled, relaxing a little as the vodka tore down her throat. "You must be a little jealous, I guess," she said softly. "Your little sister getting married first, I mean."

Alex shook her head, watching as Emma danced with her new father-in-law. "It was never a priority of mine, you know?" She shrugged, taking another sip of wine. "I just want her to be happy, and she is. Therefore, I'm happy." 

Chuckling softly, Olivia nodded. "Me either. I never really thought I'd get married, until..." She trailed off. "I mean, I'm really hard to get along with, yanno. And my hours are crazy." 

"I don't think you're that hard to get along with," Alex replied, but nodded nonetheless. "I know what you mean, though. It's hard to integrate someone 'from the outside' into the lives you and I lead." 

"Yup. Guess if either of us are going to get married, it'll be to someone else in law enforcement." Before she realized what she'd said, it was out. 

Alex hoped her smile covered the curious expression that flitted across her face. "Well, I hear Munch is available. And Cassidy never did get over his thing for you." 

Shaking her head, Olivia laughed softly. "He's with some meter maid from Staten Island," she told Alex. "And Munch...." She shuddered dramatically. "He's just not my type." 

Alex laughed, tilting her head back, the long day starting to catch up with her, seeping through her and tightening her neck and back muscles. "I think whoever describes Munch as their 'type' should be studied for science." She smiled, thankful they had overcome the latest speed bump on the road to recovering their friendship. 

"There was a girl once, a temp secretary. She said she thought he was hot. I mean, she was committed a month later to Bellevue..." Olivia chuckled, eyeing Alex thoughtfully. 

"My point exactly," Alex agreed, mulling her thoughts as she rolled Cabernet over her tongue. "I'm glad you decided to come. I mean, I know how important it was to Emma, so..." 

"It was important to me to be here, too," Olivia said quietly. "Listen, Alex, we need to talk about something. I mean, if you have stuff to do, it doesn't have to be immediately, but eventually, we've gotta talk." 

Alex shook her head immediately, trying to remain collected even as her heart rate tripled. "There's a 24-hour diner down the block. We can slip out for a couple of minutes now, if you want." 

"I - It's going to take longer than that," Olivia laughed softly. "Just do your bridesmaid thing, then we can go for coffee after, or something. Okay?" 

"Okay." Alex smiled encouragingly, taking a much longer sip of wine. Her fingers grazed Olivia's wrist before she realized what she was doing, and pulled her hand away. "Do you have a watch on you?" 

"Did you feel one?" Olivia bantered, the blush creeping all the way down to her toes. 

"Not on that wrist, but I didn't inspect your other one," Alex replied pragmatically, smiling. 

"Go ahead," Olivia said softly. "Yeah, I've got a watch," she said after watching Alex blush. 

Biting the bullet, Alex stepped closer to Olivia, standing stomach to stomach with the detective. She took Olivia's right wrist in her left hand, leaning her head in to look at the time. "Six-fifteen. Mark and Emma should be leaving around seven. Then we can go grab that cup of coffee, okay?" 

Taking a deep breath, indulging in the scent of Alex's perfume, Olivia nodded. "Sounds good." 

Alex allowed her right hand to brush against Olivia's hip before she stepped back, small smile still in place. She said nothing, instead moving further down the bar and swallowing the last of her wine. She suddenly had a sinking feeling that she'd need a little more courage than originally anticipated. 

Jess found her a few minutes later, asking for assistance getting Emma changed out of her wedding dress. Alex nodded, and turned back to Olivia, taking her hand fully this time, thankful in part that the wine had finally diminished the remaining control she had when in the company of Olivia Benson. "Don't run off, okay? I'll be right back." 

"Don't worry, I'm not moving." 

"Good." Alex hurried to the back of the restaurant, hanging up her sister's gown as she changed into the not-so-traditional post-wedding attire of a white lace skirt, one of Mark's white Oxfords tied at the waist, and flip flops. She pulled her hair in a ponytail and grabbed her purse, taking one final look at her sister and best friend. "Thanks, you guys," Emma managed before embracing them both in an awkwardly placed group hug. 

Alex kissed the top of Emma's head, and Jess squealed once again in delight for her friend. "Okay, I'll go cue the DJ. Have fun in the Bahamas, Em!" 

"Thanks, Jess." Emma turned to her sister, a smile on her face. "You get how much I love you, right?" 

Alex hugged her sister again. "I know," she replied. "I'm so proud of you, babe." 

Emma stepped back, squaring her shoulders. "Okay, how do I look?" 

"Like you're ready for the beach," Alex replied, smoothing the top of Emma's head. There was a knock at the door, and Mark, dressed in khakis and a matching white Oxford, stuck his head in. "You ready, sweetie?" 

Emma nodded, squeezing Alex's hand. "Do me a favor, Al." 

"Sure," Alex replied, following them to the edge of the restaurant. 

"Listen to the song as we go out. I picked it with you in mind." Emma winked over her shoulder, entering the restaurant to applause as the DJ said, "Everyone say goodbye to Mr. and Mrs. Miller!" 

Alex stayed back, confused, but watched as Emma and Mark hugged everyone possible, and Vanessa Amorosi's voice followed them out into the fall night. "When you look at me, I wish you were mine once again, 'cause now I love you more than I did then. And I'm hopin' that we can mend it all back; that when we're together, the spark is there, and the flame comes back. Every time I close my eyes, the visions reappear. And when I wake up you're not near. Could you fall in love with me again?" 

Olivia caught Alex's eyes from across the room, smiling at the blonde even as the blush crept over her own cheeks, now a familiar feeling. She wondered briefly if Emma had planned this moment, then dismissed the thought. Of **course **Emma had planned it. 

"'Cause all I see is you, every time I close my...Should I tell this to you, instead of let it go? Tell you what I feel and let it show? No matter how hard that I think this through, my feelings are the same; I'm in love with you. Every time I close my eyes, the visions reappear, and when I wake up you're not near. Could you fall in love with me again? 'Cause all I see is you, every time I close my eyes..." 

Olivia cocked her head toward the door, reaching for her coat. 

Alex nodded, going back over to the table and grabbing her own coat. She caught Cragen's eye and smiled her goodbye. He nodded with a smile, then went back to his conversation with Elliot and Kathy. Alex slid her wool coat over her bare shoulders, meeting Olivia at the door. "You ready?" 

"God, yes." Olivia laughed as they stepped out into the brisk evening. They started down the sidewalk, as the detective tried to ignore the obvious tension between them. "So," she began uneasily, "about what happened." 

"Which part?" Alex asked, trying to make her voice gentle, not sure if she succeeded fully. "The whole sleeping together thing, or the part where you ran out on New Year's Eve?" 

Olivia stopped in the middle of the sidewalk, turning to face Alex. "I don't regret sleeping with you," she said softly, just in case they were being listened to. "I'm... sorry for...well, let's just say I misinterpreted something I heard about you, and...got scared." 

"Something you heard?" Alex shook her head, not understanding. 

"Let's not get into it," Olivia said, trying to avoid the discussion; the last thing she wanted was to get Emma in trouble. "I'm sorry for running out on you. Let's just leave it at that, 'kay?" 

Alex met Olivia's reluctance with determination. "No," she said slowly with a shake of her head, exhaling loudly when she put two and two together. "You were talking to a very drunk Emma before you left. She said something, didn't she?" 

"Yeah," Olivia admitted dismissively, quietly. "But it's not her fault," she rushed to explain. "What she said was the truth, I just misunderstood." 

"All right, enough with the semantics and avoidance. What'd she say?" Alex watched Olivia avoid her gaze, and reached out and touched the detective's hand. "It had to have been something major that made you avoid me on any remotely personal level for the past ten months." 

"It—I—I thought I was a substitute for Sandy," Olivia murmured in a rush. "And I didn't wanna be your second choice, and I didn't wanna be your reason for not getting over her death. It was just a stupid psychology-major excuse for not wanting to be vulnerable." 

"What?" Alex's tone was caught between incredulous and embarrassed. "Oh, Olivia," she breathed, squeezing their still-linked hands. "I got over Sandy so long ago. I miss her sometimes, but..." She tugged on Olivia's hand, forcing the brunette's eyes to meet hers. "You could never be a second choice, Olivia Benson, even if you tried." 

Shrugging, Olivia blushed deeper, getting used to the feeling. "That song tonight - did Emma do that?" she asked, changing the subject. 

Alex nodded, moving her hands back to her pockets as they continued the short walk to the diner. "Yeah, I think so. She's nothing if not persistent. And now that she's married, she thinks Mark has this obligation to protect her from me when she returns." 

"Why would he need to protect her?" Olivia asked, in a soft voice, holding the door of the diner open. As Alex passed close by on her way in, the detective added in a whisper, "I mean, if it's what we both want, then Emma hasn't done anything wrong." 

Alex chose the first table available, watching Olivia as she sat down across from her. "Is it what you want?" 

Thinking for a split second, she echoed the question, gauging Alex's response. "What do you want?" 

Alex took a deep breath, taking a sip of the coffee the waitress brought over as they sat down. "I don't know," she said. "I'm attracted to you," she admitted, expelling a breath after the words escaped her lips. "But the past two years, of not knowing, then thinking I know, and returning to not knowing...I hate that, Olivia. And neither of us deserves to go through that again." 

"No, you're right." Olivia stifled a pang of disappointment. "I guess I just thought  -  I don't know what I thought." 

"What would it take for you to feel fully comfortable with me?" 

_Two bottles of wine and a night alone._ "A little more time," Olivia replied softly. "But, if it means anything, I want to." 

"It means a lot." Alex smiled gently, her fingers itching to cover Olivia's. "We'd need to take it slow. I don't think we have a good track record with the whole 'leaping before looking' guide to relationships." 

Chuckling, Olivia shook her head, reaching for Alex's hand and slipping her fingers between the blonde's. "No," she agreed. "Slow and steady is definitely our best bet," Olivia said quietly, even as she felt her arousal start in response to Alex's silky skin under her rough fingertips. 

"Yeah," Alex replied, rubbing her thumb against Olivia's index finger, watching Olivia's dark eyes boring into her light ones. "It's not going to be easy," she said unnecessarily. 

"Hard as hell, but we can do it." 

The smile that she allowed to break across her face transformed Alex's porcelain mask into a bright, character-filled face. "You as scared as I am?" 

Laughing, Olivia nodded vigorously. "Shitless," she agreed with a grin. "But, uhm, Alex?" 

"What?" 

"Since we're taking it slow, exactly how long do we have to wait? 'Cause it's been nine months, two weeks and six days since I got any," Olivia murmured with a throaty chuckle. 

Alex's shocked expression melted quickly into delighted laughter, tilting her head back. She shook her head at Olivia. "You're unbelievable, Detective Benson." With a shrug, she pulled her lower lip into her mouth, thinking. "Let's give it a couple of weeks, at least, okay?" 

Olivia's eyes widened to the size of saucers. "Alex," she said, in mock-seriousness, "I could get shot in the line of duty in the next two weeks. Or be hit by a bus. Or be taken hostage by irate dairy farmers with a grudge. Think how upset you'd be with yourself then, if you made me wait two whole **weeks**." 

"Well," Alex thought it over for a minute, her tone moving to a more serious one. "The sex wasn't the problem, if I recall correctly. It was our own insecurities, and my sister's inability to keep her mouth shut that screwed us over again." 

"So if we keep an open line of communication - and stop listening to Emma - we should be okay, right?" 

"I don't see why not," Alex replied, taking another sip of her coffee, her hand still linked with Olivia's. 

Olivia began to run her fingertip across Alex's palm, sipping at her coffee as well. "And, as I recall, we were really good together. It's been a while, but isn't that how you remember it?" She grinned sincerely. 

"I think 'really good' covers it," Alex nodded, meeting Olivia's smile. "And it's probably the best present we could give Emma on her wedding night." 

Olivia let her head fall back as she laughed, lowering it eventually to meet Alex's eyes with a playful glint in her own. "It's really sick that you'd consider our lovemaking a present for Emma." 

"Chalk it up to the four glasses of wine I had after dinner," Alex replied with a playful grin. 

Chuckling, Olivia shook her head. "Now that that's settled," she said with a teasing grin, "wanna get out of here?" 

Alex nodded, reaching into her pocket and pulling out a ten dollar bill. She slid out of the booth, reaching her hand out for Olivia's discreetly. 

Olivia took Alex's hand again as they walked out of the diner. "My apartment's this way," she tugged Alex's hand gently toward the left. "Unless you'd rather I walk you home?" 

Alex regarded her for a moment, then shook her head slowly. "It's an awfully long walk," she replied as they stopped at a crosswalk. "And if I went home now, I wouldn't be able to do this." She leaned over gently, hesitant enough to let Olivia pull away if need be, and kissed the brunette lightly. 

Glancing around quickly for onlookers, and finding none, Olivia pulled Alex close and kissed her long and hard. 

Wrapping her arms around Olivia's waist and flattening her palms against her back, Alex melted into the kiss on a purely sensory level, welcoming the missed sensation of Olivia's mouth pressuring her own. She broke the kiss after a moment, moving her hand and cupping Olivia's cheek. "You might want to get me home now." 

"Yeah, I might," Olivia agreed with a wicked grin. "Let's go."   
  


* * *  
  


"There's a cow in your soup!" 

Alex's head shot up out of her statute book and glared at her sister disbelievingly. "What the hell are you screaming that for?" Alex asked, looking behind Emma to see just how many people were staring at her neurotic younger sibling. When she saw the rest of the office was dark and deserted, she looked back at Emma, confused. 

"I've been calling your name for the last five minutes." Emma smiled at the beginnings of her sister's comprehension, and placed a take-out bag on her desk. "Here." 

"What's this?" 

"Dinner," Emma supplied slowly. "You know, that thing people eat with their sisters at the newly decorated restaurant their beloved sibling just completed?" 

"Oh, shit." Alex finally looked at the clock, wincing as its hands spread across, indicating the hour was nearing 9:30. "I was supposed to have dinner with you and Mark at Seascape tonight." 

Emma nodded, sitting in the chair across from her sister. "It's okay. I know you have that big trial finishing up tomorrow; we'll just go another day." 

"Thanks," Alex replied, opening the doggie bag and searching through the contents, curious what her sister had brought. "So how are things, Mrs. Miller? I haven't talked to you in a while." 

Emma chuckled. "Well, with our schedules being as shitty as they are, I guess it's no surprise." She crossed her legs, watching Alex tear apart a roll in the graceful manner that only she could. "Things are good. Seascape's a hit; they might feature it in Architectural Digest." 

"That's great, Em!" Since graduating with her Master's, Emma had become the talk of the restaurant industry, with everyone wondering what design she'd come up with next. Nothing was ever similar with Emma, and people loved the guessing game. 

Emma nodded. "Yeah, I'm pretty stoked. I'm finishing up a couple of other plans in the next few weeks, so we'll see what pans out. How are you?" 

"Same as ever," Alex replied with a smile. "Busy, obviously." She indicated the law books piled around her desk and offered a slight shrug. "I've barely been home in the last week; I can't tell you how happy I'll be when this jackass is behind bars." 

"How's Olivia?" Emma's eyebrows raised as Alex narrowed hers. 

Finally acquiescing, Alex leaned back in her chair, tearing more bread and wiping stray crumbs off the skirt of her black suit; the jacket had been discarded on a nearby chair earlier in the evening. "She's fine, thank you." 

Emma rolled her eyes. "Okay, Miss Semantics. How is the relationship between you and the good detective progressing?" 

Alex shook her head. "No way, baby sister." 

Emma rose, taking the plastic bag off Alex's desk. "Fine. Then I'm holding your food hostage." 

"Okay by me," Alex replied, handing her the half-eaten roll. "I haven't eaten all day, and I'm just fine." 

Emma sighed dramatically. "What am I going to do with the chicken and shrimp fettuccine in here? Or the antipasto? Maybe the homeless guy outside would like the tiramisu I brought you for dessert." 

Her betraying stomach growled, and Alex held out her hand for the bag. "All right. We're...good, I guess. Nothing serious yet, just a lot of nice, quiet dinners, long talks, that kind of thing." 

Emma smiled victoriously, handing her sister the bag back. "Nothing serious, as in nothing yet, or nothing ever?" 

Alex shrugged, opening the antipasto container. "I don't know, Em. We haven't really talked about a 'future'. We just like where we are, spending time together, but maintaining our own space, our own lives." 

Emma nodded understandingly. "That's great, Al." 

Alex shrugged, a tiny smile playing at her lips as she took a bite of the appetizer. "I think so." 

Emma watched her sister eat for a few minutes before her cell phone went off. She answered, and from the change in her features, Alex could tell Mark was beckoning her home with the promise of a bubble bath and candles. Emma disconnected, and said nothing, but giggled. 

"Say hi to Mark for me, hon." Alex rose from the desk and hugged her sister briefly. 

"Will do. Say hi to Olivia." Emma winked and headed into the dark offices. Alex cringed when she heard an "Oof! Damn desk!" but laughed as Emma called back, "I'm okay!" 

"'Night, Em." Alex shook her head, clearing a space on her desk to spread out her dinner.   
  


* * *  
  


Olivia stepped off the elevator, glancing around the darkened halls. Striding up to Alex's door, she knocked soundly before poking her head in. Seeing that Alex wasn't on the phone, Olivia said, "Hey, there. You weren't home, and I kept getting your voice mail here, so I thought I'd drop in, make sure you were still alive." 

Alex smiled. "That depends on your definition of alive. But I'm still breathing." She motioned to the chair previously occupied by her sister. "What's up?" 

"Not a lot. I ended up working until eight." Olivia glanced at the papers on Alex's desk, pushed out of the way in favor of her late-night snack. "I brought dinner," Olivia offered, holding up a heavy paper bag. "But I guess you have enough," she grinned. "The Dinner Elf stop by?" 

"Thanks," Alex replied, a sincere smile on her face. "I stood Emma up by mistake, so she brought me what I missed. What'd you bring?" 

"Ah, nothin' much. I just had nothing ready at home so I threw together spaghetti and meatballs. Thought you might like something **not** out of a vending machine." Olivia grinned. "Mind if I join you, anyway? I haven't eaten yet." 

Alex nodded, moving more files from her desk to the floor, giving Olivia a space of her own. "Sorry for the mess," she apologized halfheartedly, knowing Olivia understood. "What kept you at work so late?" 

"Paperwork," Olivia replied vaguely, setting out her Tupperware and opening it. She'd made the pasta to make sure Alex ate, and now, looking at it, the detective felt slightly nauseous. Olivia re-covered the dish and shook her head slowly. "This guy is just getting to me." 

"Understandably," Alex replied. She didn't know many details; she'd been so caught up in a murder case that she barely remembered getting Cragen a few search warrants, but she knew the only tie to three murder victims seemed to be Olivia. "What's your theory?" 

"I'd say I don't have one, 'cause the one I have is insane." Olivia reached for the bottle of water she'd brought and took a long draught. 

"Why do you think it's insane?" Alex tilted her head slightly, raising her eyebrows. "Do you have a suspect?" 

"Yeah, guy named Plummer." Sighing softly, Olivia shook her head in dismay. "I'm the link, Alex," she said quietly. "I liked him for a rape he didn't do, and the DNA technology wasn't around to prove me wrong." 

Alex expelled a sympathetic breath. "And he did time?" 

"Uh huh." Olivia rested her head on one upturned palm. "He's out now, and I **know** it's him. I know he's tryin' to bait me, or somethin'. I just can't prove it." Frustration and exhaustion piled upon each other to start the migraine tickling the back of Olivia's head. 

"You'll nail him." The softness to Alex's tone didn't hide her confidence in Olivia. "Is there anything I can do?" Even she wasn't sure in what capacity her last question was intended. 

Looking up, Olivia grinned mischievously. "Not professionally. But if you finish up soon, I can think of some things that might help." 

Alex couldn't contain a grin. She looked back up at the clock and then back at her books. "Is half an hour soon enough?" 

"Sure." Olivia packed up her untouched meal and stood, reaching across the desk. Squeezing Alex's hand quickly, she said simply, "My place," and turned to leave. 

Alex watched her leave, took another sip of her soda, and abandoned the remnants of her dinner in favor of uninterrupted work time, now that she had something to look forward to. 

True to her word, she showed up on Olivia's doorstep a little more than a half hour later. She knocked lightly, noting with interest that Olivia's hallway had been painted since the last time she'd been there. 

Olivia opened the door, grateful smile in place. "Hey," she said softly. There was no need to invite Alex in; such formality had long since worked its way out of their relationship. Turning away from the door, Olivia went into the small kitchen to pour Alex a glass of wine and retrieve her own. 

"Hey." Alex took off her coat and slipped out of her pumps, leaning her bag against the wall. She found herself craving the comfort of normalcy, although this was one of the first times Olivia had invited her over on a weeknight, and especially in the middle of a case. They were trying to figure out how to balance their private lives with their professional, and were still of the opinion that separate was better. 

Willing her brain to shut down for the evening, Alex followed Olivia into the small kitchen, accepting the wineglass with a grateful smile. 

Olivia made her way back into the living room. "Sit?" she asked, starting toward the couch. 

"Sure." Alex followed Olivia to the couch, sitting on the far right hand side, her back to the window. She curled her legs under her and sipped the wine, a darker red than she was used to. She regarded Olivia seriously, but said nothing. 

The dark burgundy of the wine matched Olivia's mood. She tried to put on a smile for Alex, before giving up entirely. "Sorry," the detective murmured, watching her wine intently. "I really do want you here - I'm just not that talkative." 

"That's okay." Alex met her small smile understandingly, and took another sip of wine. "Do you want me to say something witty, or do you just want quiet?" 

"Witty would be nice," Olivia said softly, meeting Alex's eyes. 

"Oh, the pressure," Alex chuckled. She leaned against the back of the couch, resting her head on the pillows, the long day catching up with her. "I'll work on witty for later. I can tell you Emma might be featured in Architectural Digest, though, for her work on Seascape." 

"That's great." Olivia's smile slid easily from tense to sincere, before the events of the day hit her again. "How's the case coming? Closing's tomorrow, right?" 

Alex nodded. "Yeah. This one's tougher than I expected, though; defense came up with the most archaic case law to exclude evidence. I'm trying to do the same thing to him tomorrow, knock a little wind out of his sails." 

Nodding with a small smile, Olivia took another sip of her wine. "That's my girl." 

Alex's smile widened around the rim of her wineglass. "I'm not expecting too much of a problem, though. Lately, my cases have been open and shut. It's nice to get the conviction rate up there, but I guess some part of me still craves a tougher challenge." She raised her eyebrows at Olivia questioningly. "Do you think that's bad?" 

"Nope. But if you're really looking for a challenge, I can play hard to get." 

"I think you're challenging enough as it is." 

Grinning for a split second, Olivia shook her head. "Jacob used to call me—" she cut herself off, sobering quickly. "Anyway..." 

Alex watched her seriously for a minute before finishing her glass. "You know, that's not the first time you've backed away from a conversation about this mysterious Jacob," she said gently. She went back into the kitchen and brought the wine bottle out, setting it on Olivia's small coffee table. "You know about all my exes...is this some kind of master plan to maintain your shroud of secrecy or something?" Her eyes were curious, but light, indicating her understanding of why Olivia might back down from the topic again. 

"No," Olivia replied softly, drawing circles idly on her glass with her finger. "It's just, with this case focusing on me, I guess I kinda feel in the spotlight. And I hate that." Glancing up, she caught Alex's gaze on her, and Olivia shook her head. "Jacob was - he was the most unusual man I'd ever met. He was kind, compassionate and gentle - right there, he was different. But there was something else about him. I can't put a name to it," Olivia said wistfully, her voice even, "but he had the aura of someone very wise for his years. Any time something came up I thought I couldn't handle, Jake showed me I could. He was my rock. When he...was gone," the brunette stumbled over the word, "I thought I would die." Her deep chocolate eyes never left Alex's face, though they were miles away. "But I didn't." Her eyes focused again, on the Romanesque features of the ADA, and Olivia smiled tenderly. "I'm glad I didn't," she finished softly. 

Alex filled the distance between them, saying nothing initially, but lacing her fingers through Olivia's. How anyone could have left Olivia Benson was beyond her, but she wouldn't push it; she knew how out of her boundaries Olivia felt at that moment. Instead, Alex squeezed their linked hands and said, "Thank you for telling me that." 

"You had a right to know." Olivia put her glass down and took Alex's hands in hers, concentrating on the soft skin under her fingers. "I mean, if you want to pursue anything with me, you should know about all my scars, right?" 

Alex shook her head, putting her wineglass on the table and turning to face Olivia better, their knees touching. "I want to know who you are, yeah; that may include your scars and your romantic history. But I want to pursue something with you because of who you are now, Olivia. Maybe in time we'll know each other inside and out, but for now, I'm happy just being here." 

Her limit for vulnerability reached and exceeded, Olivia just nodded, leaning forward to kiss Alex hungrily. Her arms slid around the blonde's waist, and she murmured between anxious kisses, "Then just be here, 'kay? With me." 

Taken aback, Alex accepted the kiss with equal fervor, and groaned heavily as Olivia climbed on top of her. She knew there would be no talking for the rest of the night, no further open discussions threatening either of their comfort zones, and as Olivia rained bruising kisses on her neck, Alex thought that was just fine.

* * *  
  


She'd tell Alex about the bodies on her doorstep, the threats, the showdown with Plummer, the poor, terrified woman he'd taken hostage in his bid to steal what was left of Olivia's sanity. Some night, with wine and pleasant conversation, the memory of standing across from a psychopath who was willing to kill, and die, just to rage against the unjust system that had locked him up, would spring free from Olivia's mental lockbox and spill over as hot, salty tears. Until that night, Olivia thought she would sit in silence on her couch, the lights of the city twinkling in obnoxious merriment to her left, two individual tears - one on each cheek - the only sign that anything out of the ordinary had happened to her that week. 

The rapid succession in which she was pressing "Talk" and "End" on her cell phone was making Alexandra's fingers numb. With each time she dialed Olivia's number and got nothing but endless ringing spit back at her, her blood pressure rose about ten points. She had trekked through the rain to Olivia's apartment from downtown, bolting out of the office at exactly 5:01. She had been in court all day, and was leaving one arraignment for another when she overheard two uniforms talking about the shooting of a perp by an SVU detective. "Damn good thing, too," one said to the other. "Bastard was hackin' up her old vics." 

Alex's heart had sunk in her chest immediately, every inch of her, in some paradoxically clichéd moment, knowing Olivia was in the middle of that mess. She had wanted to run up there, offer support, but she'd had to stay in court until late afternoon, when she called Olivia's cell and desk phones, and got nothing but voicemail. Concerned, she called Cragen, who told her Olivia had been sent home pending the internal investigation. Alexandra had followed, and now, she found herself tapping her foot impatiently, waiting for what was most likely the slowest elevator known to man. Finally giving up, she bolted to the stairwell, initially a brilliant move, until she arrived, chest heaving, on the fourth floor ten minutes later. 

As she moved to Olivia's door, any thoughts of a need to go back to the gym skittered out into the beige hallway, and she raised a tentative hand to the door. "Olivia?" She knocked a few times, leaning her head against the door, trying to hear any movement within the apartment. "Olivia, it's Alex." She stepped back, dialing her phone again, letting the ringing echo both in her ear and in the apartment. Calling out, she tried again. "Olivia, if you're there, please answer the phone. I just want to make sure you're okay." The words sounded hollow against her throat, but Alex was at a loss as to what to do next. Her pounding became more insistent as the minutes passed, until her sore knuckles forced her to start banging with her palms. "Olivia, please..." She tried the doorknob out of a last desperate attempt, not surprised when she found it locked. "Damn it, Olivia. Just answer the fucking door, okay?" She slammed her palm against the door one final time for good measure before stepping away, frustrated and worried. 

"Go away." Her voice, in all its mahogany glory, resounded dull against Olivia's own ears. It was more of a response than she'd given Elliot, and it was certainly more of a response than Alexandra deserved. In the past week, she'd been stalked and watched victims in her past cases murdered because of **her** mistake, and the thought that plagued her the most was that her girlfriend didn't believe her when she said that no, she hadn't been drunk and no, she hadn't imagined being stalked on a shadowy street corner. _Where the hell did your priorities go?_

Alex was back at the door within a split second, resting her still-throbbing palm against it, as if she could reach through the heavy oak, and reach out to Olivia. "Olivia, please..." her voice had returned to a normal level. "I just want to make sure you're okay." 

"I'm fine." _Go to hell,_ she added mentally. It didn't bother her so much that Alex hadn't believed her; hell, **she** probably wouldn't have believed her. What troubled Olivia was that Alex's disbelief had shaken the detective's belief in herself to the core. 

For a reason she wasn't quite sure she wanted to understand, the curtness and - was that hurt? - in Olivia's voice caused a loud sigh to escape Alex's lips, and her hand dropped from the door again. The argument they'd had in her office a day earlier was the first time they'd been at serious odds since they'd gotten back together. In her concern as the ADA, she had neglected her concern as the lover, and now she was paying the price. She'd realized it the minute Olivia turned and walked from her office, and she winced again as the look on Olivia's face during her question - 'How many drinks did you have?' - replayed in her mind. "I know you're pissed at me. I'm pissed at myself, too." Her pseudo-apology receiving no reaction from inside the apartment, Alex tried one last time. "Look, I'll leave you alone, if that's what you really want. But if you're keeping me out because you think I didn't believe you, you're wrong. I trust your instincts, Olivia - so much that I went to my boss and we talked to Plummer's cellmate. It was never about not trusting you." 

The extended silence that greeted her explanation made Alex wonder if it had been rejected as a ploy, a line; whether that was its intention, she herself couldn't say. It wasn't until the door swung open that she knew Olivia had accepted the explanation with as much forgiveness as she could muster at that moment. Olivia's face, drawn and pale, reflected the day's events even as her eyes refused to. "If you trusted me, why did you say what you did?" she countered, her voice low to avoid alerting the neighbors to the conversation. "You accused me of being drunk, Alex," Olivia continued, not waiting for a response. "Didn't sound like you trust me a whole helluva lot." 

"I was telling you, as an ADA, why I felt we couldn't get a warrant for Plummer," Alex replied after a moment, meeting Olivia's eyes, trying to hide her own discomfort at the pain floating through the detective's eyes. Her voice softened as she continued. "I neglected you on a personal level, and I'm sorry." 

Olivia's entire visage softened as she stepped back from the doorway. "C'mon in," she said tiredly. She was exhausted, tired of fighting, tired of being careful, tired of her life. Olivia walked back to the couch and sank gratefully onto it. "I'm sorry, too," she said after a long, unbroken silence. "I guess I'm just not able to separate personal from professional yet." 

Tentatively, Alex reached out and covered Olivia's hand, preparing herself for the detective to pull away. "I haven't, either," she replied, unsettled by her inability to find comforting words for her lover. "Can I do anything to help?" 

Slipping her fingers in between Alex's, Olivia managed a weak smile. "I haven't eaten all day. Can you call Antonio's while I take a shower?" Her spirit was already lifting. 

Alex squeezed Olivia's hand and leaned over, brushing her lips lightly against her lover's temple in silent affirmation. She rose off the couch, pulling Olivia with her, and found the phone after giving the detective a slight nudge in the direction of the bathroom.

THE END


	6. Innocence

"Well, now that you have a month off, maybe you can squeeze me in for dinner." Emma sighed as her sister failed to laugh, or even chuckle. "Alex, I know you're upset," she continued, pacing the apartment, portable phone cradled in her hand. "And you have every right to be—"

"No," Alex finally broke in. "I don't have any rights in this. I caused this; I caused a young boy to try to commit suicide."

"Alexandra Grace Cabot, if you say that again, I will come over there and beat your skinny ass." Emma's tone was critical. "You didn't molest him, did you? Did you heartlessly manipulate him?"

"Partly," Alex replied, her air of detachment attempting to hide the guilt Liz Donnelly had promised would remain. "I was so concerned about getting a conviction that I lost sight of who was most important in this whole thing." 

Emma was silent for a minute, before trying to reassure her sister once again. "Allie, listen to me, okay? I know why you went to those lengths, why you got suspended, and it's not because you wanted a conviction. You wanted to take away Sam Cavanaugh's pain. I admire that. But honey, causing yourself pain and torment for the next month, the next year, or the rest of your life, isn't going to cure his." Emma was quickly tiring of talking to silence on the other end of the phone. "I think Sam was so confused and disenchanted about life in general that this was inevitable. His mother couldn't handle the fact that she couldn't save him, so she blamed you." Emma jumped slightly as the front door opened, and she smiled as Mark entered the apartment. She held up one finger, indicating she needed a minute, and walked into the kitchen, sitting down at her table. "You need to take responsibility for the law that you broke, going in there without a warrant. You will take that responsibility, and you will take the personal responsibility for causing Olivia and Elliot to potentially be sanctioned. But you will not, under any circumstances, take responsibility for Sam Cavanaugh's decision to take those pills and rig up a noose, do you hear me?" 

A few tears slipped down her cheeks, but their emotion wasn't evident in Alex's voice. "I need to go, Emma. I'll talk to you soon."

"Alex—" Emma cut herself off with a sigh. "Call me if you need me, please?"

"Yup. Bye." Alex disconnected quickly, eliciting a shuddering breath as she tossed the portable on the couch beside her. Her sister was right, in part, she guessed; she didn't directly cause the pain Sam Cavanaugh was reeling from, but it certainly had been magnified. What rested most uncomfortably, however, was the fact that she knew with the utmost certainty that she'd do it all over again. She would go to those lengths - infringing on Linda Cavanaugh's Fourth Amendment rights, risking Benson and Stabler's jobs, as well as her own - to bring Roy Barnett down. She'd do it in a heartbeat, and that scared her. She had never been that daring, or reckless before, and she wondered if she wasn't losing herself in the process. She had transferred to SVU with the sole intention of prosecuting offenders to the fullest extent of the law, promising that they would pay for their crimes, and now, she found herself caught in the riptide of that promise.

She started to pace the apartment, rubbing her seasick stomach. As the adrenaline from the afternoon's events started to wear off, her limbs started to drop, and the guilt set in heavier. She started thinking about Olivia, how she had pegged Alex's lack of remorse earlier in the day, and Alexandra hoped the detective understood that she really was sorry they got caught in the middle of it. She also found herself wanting Olivia there, telling her it was okay. Emma's promises of the same had rung hollow, but somehow, Alex wondered if Olivia said the same thing, if she might just believe it.

She walked back over to the couch, and picked up the phone, dialing half of Olivia's number before stopping herself. It wasn't fair to ask her lover to assuage part of the guilt she was feeling, and part of her felt silly even expecting it; she was probably the last person Olivia wanted to talk to tonight. She tossed the phone back on the leather sofa, and walked to her sliding glass door, looking out on the heavy New York night. 

The phone rang in Olivia's ear, and she wondered if Alex would put up the same kind of fight she had, in a similar situation. Alex had stood outside her door, pounding, calling her name, and calling her phone, waiting for any kind of response. Would Olivia do the same? _In a heartbeat,_ she thought. 

Alex groaned, cursing her sister's inability to take a hint and leave her alone. She picked up the phone again, rubbing her temples as she answered. "Emma, please. Four phone calls in an hour is really starting to wear on my Excedrin." 

"I'll buy you a new bottle," Olivia replied gently. "You okay?" 

"Hey." Alex's reply was softer now, and surprised. "I'm hangin' in, I guess. How are you?" 

Picking up on the tone, Olivia made a disappointed noise with her tongue, as she dug in the fridge for something to eat among the moss-covered leftovers. "Why are you surprised to hear from me?" she asked, practically reading Alex's mind. "You had the week from hell, I'm just checkin' in with my girlfriend." She had to grin at her own dorkiness. The grin disappeared as Olivia's tone changed and she asked, "Really, though, how're you holding up?" 

Unable to contain a smile at the girlfriend reference, Alex sat back down on the couch, curling her legs underneath her. "I feel like shit," she finally admitted. "And I'm surprised to hear from you, seeing as I nearly cost you your job today." 

"It's not as close as you make it sound," Olivia countered, sniffing a week-old box of lo mein and nearly gagging. "I've almost gotten myself fired dozens of times. I'm still here. I'm like herpes - they can't get rid of me, no matter how hard they try." She was trying to make Alex laugh. 

It worked, with Alex expelling a soft chuckle. "Nice comparison." She wandered into her own kitchen, pouring herself a glass of water. Leaning against the counter, she rubbed the back of her neck. "So, I'm thinking with my month off, I might go on a cruise." She was caught again, feeling like she should be serious and get Olivia's take on the whole situation, but really wanting to avoid the topic for a while. 

"Sounds like fun. You'll come back with a nice tan." Olivia shut the fridge with a defeated sigh. "Did you eat yet?" 

"I was thinking of ordering something, actually. Care to join me?" The needs for avoidance and serious discussion were starting to be overwhelmed by the need to have Olivia close. "We can choose my ports of call." 

"I'll be over in fifteen. And Alex?" 

"Yeah?" 

"None of this is your fault." Olivia hung up and grabbed her jacket. 

Alex's reply was swallowed by the dial tone. The smile on her face was welcome and foreign at the same time, as she still wasn't sure if she really should be smiling at a time like this. Regardless, her stomach argued, she should eat, and Alex went to her drawer of take-out menus, rifling through the categories before settling on pizza. She placed the order and went back into the living room, lighting a few candles, but leaving everything else off. She pulled the coffee table closer and propped her feet up, her eyes drifting partway shut.   
  


* * *  
  


Olivia knocked softly, then louder when the first went unanswered. 

Alex started, realizing she must have dozed off momentarily. As Olivia knocked again, she rose from the couch, arching her back. She opened the door, a smile crossing her soft features. "Hey. Sorry about that." 

"No problem. Can I come in?" Olivia took one look at Alex's haggard face as she stepped into the apartment and had a flash of what the blonde must've seen on hers months ago. That night - it was still fresh in Olivia's mind, despite the passage of time - she was devastated. Olivia felt then that nothing could've drawn her out of the pit of guilt and reproach she'd once again let herself fall into. Then Alex's determined apologies had broken through her haze of self-hatred, and Olivia saw the light at the end of the tunnel. 

What Olivia saw in front of her now was her beautiful, composed, compassionate lover, battered and beaten by the injustice of the world they inhabited. Aching to hold Alex, who appeared to be putting on a brave face, Olivia pulled an old psychological trick she'd learned from Huang. The profiler was not a man you wanted to mess with in an emotional dark alley. Stepping into the apartment, Olivia held out her arms tentatively. "Listen," she said softly, "I know it's your bad week, but could I impose on you for a hug? I could really use one." 

Without a word, Alex stepped forward, wrapping her arms around Olivia's waist. She rested her head on Olivia's shoulder for a moment, and then found herself snuggling her face into Olivia's neck, tightening her grip around her girlfriend. A wave of safety coursed through her, and again, she held Olivia closer to her, hanging on to the brunette for what she figured had to be dear life as she allowed herself to honestly and openly experience the emotional aftermath of the week. 

"Hey," Olivia said gently. "It's okay." Rubbing Alex's back with one hand, she half-released the woman, guiding her toward the couch. Settling down, she drew Alex onto the sofa beside her and opened her arms again. There was, Olivia thought, no greater or more humbling feeling than comforting a loved one. None greater, because to be needed in that way and to be able to offer a shoulder to cry on, made her feel that, despite all her screw-ups and character flaws, she was loveable and capable of giving in the most honest way. None more humbling, because as Alex rested against her side, emotions threatening to overwhelm her, Olivia could do no more than murmur sympathetically, "It's not your fault." She had no way of easing Alex's pain, despite wanting desperately to do so. 

"Isn't it, though?" Alex's reply was uncharacteristically small, especially curled up next to Olivia, her arm still wrapped around the woman's waist. Her next words were stronger and more even, but she knew that Olivia had looked in her eyes; she knew Alex's pain and guilt. "I pushed him. I recognized he wouldn't be able to go back on the stand, and I convinced him anyway." 

"You did what you thought was best for Sam," Olivia argued, leaning back to make eye contact with Alex. "If you did it for any other reason, tell me now - 'cause you're not the woman I fell in—fell for," Olivia amended, with hardly a break in the flow of her words, "and I'm leaving." Her words were serious, but meant to show Alex what she already knew: that despite the end result, she had meant well. 

"Initially, I know I was trying to help him, trying to get his rapist behind bars," Alex agreed. "But after that night in the hospital...I lost it, on some level. I was so myopic with rage that I risked a hell of a lot, on the pretense of helping him. There's a part of me that knows going into that apartment without a warrant wasn't for him, it was for me." 

Olivia accepted this silently, waiting a long moment before commenting. "So you're human. How long are you going to hate yourself for this, Alex?" she asked, her fingers gently caressing the back of her girlfriend's neck. 

The words echoed in her head for a moment before Alex shook them loose. "I don't hate myself, per se. I blame myself, partly," she added the last word hastily, to save off another look from Olivia, "but I think it's like Donnelly said. The guilt's not going to go away. It's going to be hard to look at myself in the mirror for a while." 

They would be the sappiest words Olivia Benson ever heard herself say. Releasing Alex, she turned to face the attorney on the couch, taking the woman's slender fingers into her grasp. "Then don't look in the mirror," she said softly, her voice dark and certain. "Look in my eyes and see what I see; a wonderful woman, kind and generous, compassionate to a fault. I see a woman who put her career on the line to save a boy who didn't want to be saved. I see someone who needs to forgive herself, and take another look." 

The doorbell rang, interrupting the moment, and Olivia stood silently, going to the door and paying the young man. Thanking him quietly, she set the box on the kitchen counter and went back to the living room, reclaiming her seat. 

The tears she didn't realize had been threatening slipped slowly down Alex's cheeks, catching on Olivia's shirt as she leaned in, burying herself in her lover's embrace again. She cried silently, grieving for Sam, and for innocence lost. But in her tears, she found some kind of solace, some spark of innocence regained. Life did move on; it **had** to. For even if Roy Barnett was locked up, there were still thirty men like him, running the streets. While she would look back on that week with a heavy heart, she still had a job to do, and she'd do it; perhaps a little more carefully at first, but she'd do it. 

Alex inhaled deeply, and then exhaled slowly, leaning back and wiping her eyes with her right hand, her left arm still wrapped around Olivia's waist. "Thanks," she said softly. "I know you know I needed that." 

"I know you did, baby." Olivia let the word slip, as it had wanted to for weeks, from her carefully guarded lips. "And it's okay." 

Alex smiled, kissing Olivia gently. "I need food." She rose from the couch, trailing her hand lovingly across Olivia's shoulder as she moved past her and into the kitchen, Olivia following close behind her. Alex pulled down two plates and opened the pizza box, her abandoned stomach growling loudly as the aroma of pepperoni, mushrooms, sausage and cheese hit her in the face. She was dishing the pieces out when there was a knock at the door. Confused, Alex wiped her hands on a dishtowel and moved to the front door, starting slightly as her sister's face appeared on the other side. 

"What are you doing here?" Alex opened the door, eliciting a clucked tongue from her sister. 

"I came to see you, dummy. Why are you sitting here in the dark?" Emma reached over and turned the hallway light on, jumping as she saw Olivia. "Oh, hey." 

"Hey," Olivia smiled around her piece of pizza. 

"I'm good, Em. Really. Olivia's here," Alex offered in explanation. 

Emma nodded. "I can see that. Well, I'll let you get back to your pizza." 

"Do you want to stay? Just for a minute or two?" Alex opened the door wider, frowning when Emma shook her head. 

"Mark's waiting downstairs for me, so I should probably go. Take care of yourself, okay?" Emma hugged her sister, winking at Olivia. "'Night, guys." She turned and headed down the hallway, and Alex locked the door after her. 

* * *

She couldn't get there quickly enough, of that she was certain. She ran through the stationhouse, her sneakers squeaking against the tile and reverberating through the emptying halls. She skidded to a halt in front of the Unit doors, trying to collect herself.

Elliot looked up from his desk, his eyes narrowing at her red-rimmed eyes. "Emma, what's wrong?"

Wordlessly, she handed him the letter, protected in a freezer bag. Elliot looked at her, and then to the Ziploc bag, the block print easy to read. 

_You think you know what love is, but you're wrong, my precious girl. I've committed myself to making you happy; why do you keep pushing me away? I know you love me. Let yourself admit how much you love me, how much you need me, how much you want me. I admitted it long ago; embrace the freedom it can give you. Don't push me away. I've wanted you since the day I laid eyes on you. I need you, my love, so badly I can taste it. Let me love you, Emma. Forever._

"It's from him." Her voice was hoarse, and her hands were still shaking. Elliot grabbed Olivia's empty chair and eased Emma into it. 

"Do you have the envelope it came in?" 

Emma reached in her purse and pulled it out, clad in its own Ziploc bag. Elliot examined it quickly, finding no stamp, or a return address. "How do you know it's from him?"

Emma sniffled. "It's from him, Elliot. I can feel it." 

Stepping into the hall, Olivia adjusted her shirt as the bathroom door fell shut behind her. She approached her desk, surprised to see a now-familiar blonde in her chair. Stepping around to make sure, Olivia said happily, "Em, whatcha doin'—" She cut off as she saw Emma's face, dropping to a crouch and resting her hand on the young woman's knee. "What happened?" the detective asked, immediately on guard. 

Elliot handed her the note and envelope and Olivia skimmed them both quickly. "Damn," she muttered angrily. "Nice security at Attica." She looked up into Emma's frightened eyes, now the color of seawater, and pasted on a reassuring smile. "It's okay," Olivia said softly. "Do you want me to get Alex for you?" 

Emma took a deep breath and shook her head. "She's in a meeting with Donnelly and the grouchy Executive ADA whose name I can never remember. I left a message with her assistant and on her voicemail; she knows to come down here when she's done."

"Where's Mark?" Elliot asked, handing her a tissue.

"Toledo, I think. He's been traveling a lot lately, with this new promotion in the company. I left a message on his cell to call me." Emma blew her nose softly, and wiped her eyes with the back of her hands. "I thought this was over, you know? All the torment, all the crying. And here it is again." 

Olivia stood, planting herself solidly next to Emma. Glancing across the room, she beckoned Munch. "Elliot, I think Munch and I need to pay ol' Petey a visit." 

Elliot shook his head. "Too late now, you'll go tomorrow. Meanwhile, we can have him stuffed in solitary, and I'll take his handiwork down to tech, have 'em print it and confirm his latents."

Munch joined the conversation, nodding his agreement. He put an arm on Emma's shoulder. "Don't worry, kid. We'll stick his sock back in his drawer."

Emma chuckled. "Thanks, John." She stood, motioning to the back of the bullpen with her head. "I'm gonna go hang out in Don's office for a bit." Her steps were calmer now, but her head still hung low. 

"Christ," Elliot whistled, walking out of the squad room with Munch and Olivia. "That poor kid can't get a break." 

Pondering how satisfying the sound of Kelleher's nose breaking under her fist would be, Olivia didn't hear Alex until she was practically on top of them. "Hey," she said quietly. "We're on our way to Attica. Em's in with Cragen." 

"What happened?" Alex replied breathlessly, a result of running, much like her sister had minutes earlier. "I got out of my meeting with Donnelly, and Michelle told me to get down here as fast as I could. Is she okay?" 

Olivia nodded toward the other detectives and led Alex a few feet away to a more private corner of the hallway. "She's fine," Olivia assured her, with a gentle hand on Alex's arm. "She's just shaken up. Seems your stepdad's gettin' his jollies from sending her love notes." 

"Oh, shit," Alex breathed, wincing. "Damn it, Olivia, don't they examine the mail going out of there?" She sighed, looking into her lover's concerned eyes. "Are you driving out to Attica tonight?" 

"It's too long a drive," Olivia said simply. "We're starting bright and early tomorrow, but for now, we're asking Cragen to have Kelleher put into solitary - that means no access to phone or mail. Emma won't be getting any more surprises," the detective promised. 

"Good. I'll see if I can rearrange my schedule and go with you." Alex took a slight breath and followed Olivia back into the squad room. She saw her sister sitting in Don's office and she leaned against Olivia's desk. "Damn him." 

"I know." Olivia fought the bile rising in her throat. "I just wish...ugh." 

Alex offered a sympathetic smile and gestured to the back of the squad room. "I'm going to go check on her." She rose from Olivia's desk, her steps slow and deliberate, her body weighted down and matching her sister's posture. Emma rose from her chair as Alex entered the office, seeking comfort from her older sister. Alex held Emma close, watching Donald over Emma's shoulder. Emma took a step back, and exhaled a shuddering breath. "How can he do this, Allie?" she asked, sinking into her chair. 

"He's only doing this because he thinks he still can, Em." Alex knelt in front of her sister. "John, Olivia and I will go up there tomorrow and talk some sense in to him. But you can't let him bait you like this. He can't hurt you anymore, sweetie. You made sure of that." 

Emma sighed, but nodded. "I know. It's just...freaky, you know?" 

"I know." Alex rose, leaning against Cragen's desk. "Would bunking with me tonight make you feel any better?" 

Emma mulled it over for a minute, but finally nodded. "Just for tonight." She rose again, putting on her coat. "I'll run home and get some of my stuff. I'm not breaking any plans you had for tonight, am I?" 

Alex shook her head. "You're fine." 

Emma smiled gently. "Okay." She looked past her sister to Cragen. "Thanks, Don." 

"Any time." Cragen's face revealed his worry, but he tried to smile comfortingly. 

"I'll meet you at your place." Emma exited the office, and Alex tilted her head back with a slight groan as her sister disappeared from sight. "This isn't the first time I wish Olivia had aimed for his head rather than his shoulder." 

Chuckling softly, Cragen nodded and stood, crossing the room. "Alex," he said quietly, "we're not gonna let him get away with this." He laid a hand on her shoulder. 

"I know," Alex agreed. "I just hate seeing her continuously violated like this. You saw how happy she's been over the past few months. It's hard to see that one letter, one fucking piece of paper can do this to her." She shook her head, rubbing her temples. "I just wonder if she'll ever see any justice." 

Shaking his head slowly, the man with all the answers had none. 

Checking her watch, Alex straightened. "I should at least attempt to beat her home. Are you sending Munch and Benson out first thing tomorrow?" 

"Yeah," Cragen nodded. "You're gonna want to go with 'em." It was a statement; he knew Alex wouldn't let another ADA handle this.

Alex couldn't contain a small smile. "Olivia and I already decided that I'm riding along." She squeezed Cragen's hand and started out of the office. "Thanks." 

Cragen watched her leave, the remnants of a proud smile on his face. Shaking his head once, he reached for the phone and started making arrangements for Kelleher to be put in solitary confinement. 

On her way back to her own office, Alex stopped by Olivia's desk once again. "I'm heading out. What time do you want me here tomorrow?" 

"Seven," Olivia said. Glancing around discreetly, she lowered her voice. "Dinner at eight?" she asked. "I don't want you and Emma to be alone tonight." She knew without asking that Emma would be staying at Alex's. 

Alex smiled. "Sounds good. Cooking will keep Emma occupied. Any requests?" 

"Oh, I was going to bring something," Olivia said. "But if she wants to..." 

Alex lowered her voice even further. "If she's in the kitchen, she'll stay out of our hair, and stay away from the probing questions and further embarrassing childhood stories." 

"In that case, I'm picking up from Antonio's." Olivia managed to grin. 

Alex shook her head, knowing she was beaten. She picked up her briefcase and discreetly brushed her hand along Olivia's shoulders. "See you later." 

Alex returned home forty-five minutes later to find every light in her apartment lit, and her sister sitting on the couch, watching television. Alex hung up her coat and raised an eyebrow, but her face returned to its neutral state upon seeing the flash of panic that crossed Emma's face as the door opened. Offering a sympathetic smile and grabbing a swig of Emma's soda before moving into the bedroom, she called, "Olivia's bringing dinner at eight, so you can cancel your Chippendales' dancers." 

"Damn. You never let me have any fun anymore." Emma rose from the couch, standing in her sister's doorway as Alex changed into jeans and a white long-sleeved shirt. 

"May I remind you that you are a married woman, Mrs. Miller?" Alex's mission of the moment was to try and keep Emma's mind off their stepfather for the moment, stressing normalcy over panic.

Emma seemed relieved for the focus change, grinning as she jumped on Alex's bed. "You're a party pooper." 

Pulling her hair back in a loose ponytail and pushing her glasses back on her face, Alex shook her head and moved back into the living room. "I'm proud of that fact, thank you very much." 

Emma traipsed into the living room and sat back down on the couch with a tired sigh. She closed her eyes for a moment, then opened one eye and regarded her sister, who was sitting in the oversized chair across the room. "He can't hurt me, you know." 

Knowing from talking extensively with Olivia that Emma was trying to convince herself, Alex nodded encouragingly. "He can't touch you ever again." 

"So why does it still feel like he's in my head? Like he's all over me, and I can't get rid of him, no matter how hard I try." 

"How much of that is him, and how much of that is you?" 

"Oh, so you're saying I'm doing this to myself?" Emma sat up straight on the couch, her eyes narrowed at her sister. 

_She's venting._ Olivia's voice entered Alex's head. _Let her let it out._ "I'm saying that you're letting this get to you. You have a right to feel violated, but don't keep the cycle going by overdramatizing it." 

"Screw you, Alex. Oh, wait, no, you weren't good enough to earn that particular honor, were you?" Emma rose angrily from the couch, moving to the guest bedroom doorway. "I thought you'd get it," she said, her voice breaking. "But you can never understand. Tell me when Olivia gets here." Emma shut the door and turned on the guest TV set loudly. Alex exhaled and rose from the chair, pouring herself a glass of wine. 

Olivia knocked on the door half an hour later, smiling despite the situation. It wasn't often that she got to see Emma and Alex together; trying to coordinate three hectic schedules was a bear. 

Alex opened the door, offering a small smile as she stepped back and allowed Olivia to enter the apartment. "Oh, that smells wonderful," she said, locking the door behind Olivia and indicating the smells wafting out of the takeout bags. 

"I had a hard time not snacking on the way over," Olivia replied. "Where's Em? I wanna eat." 

"I'll get her. You know where everything is." Alex leaned over and kissed her girlfriend gently before moving to knock on her sister's door. "Emma? Dinner." 

Emma emerged, eyes red. Alex's heart broke for her tortured young sister. "Hey, Olivia." Emma cleared her voice before continuing her greeting. "What did you bring?" 

"Antonio's - a little of everything." Olivia glanced up and met Emma's red-rimmed eyes. "Em..." she began, then stopped. "Can we talk in private?" 

Alex took the remaining bag from Olivia's hand and moved into the kitchen silently. Emma sighed and nodded, indicating the guest room. "What's up?" she asked, perching on the end of the bed. 

"You gonna tell me why there's frost on the curtains?" the detective asked bluntly. 

Emma chuckled, running a hand through her blonde hair. "Alex thinks I'm overreacting. I think she can't possibly understand." 

Narrowing her eyes, Olivia tried to maintain an impartial attitude and forget that they were discussing her girlfriend. "Why can't she?" she asked. "She can empathize with what you went through." 

"Can she, though?" Emma sighed, playing with the duvet cover. "She seems to think that because he's behind bars, that the scars of my childhood will magically disappear. It's not that easy, and I feel like she expects it to be." 

"Alex doesn't think you're just going to magically get over what happened to you. What she **does** expect is that you won't let a little note set you back a year." Olivia had been nothing but straightforward with Emma since they'd met, and she certainly had no intention of beating around the bush now. "Are you letting him get to you more than you should? And are you maybe, just maybe, mad at Alex because she called you on it?" 

Emma's jaw was set as she mulled her response. She bit back her defensive reply, knowing Olivia wouldn't hesitate smacking some sense into her. Finally, she sighed, bending over at the waist, her hair brushing the carpet. She straightened, looking at Olivia. "She needs to stop hanging out with you." 

Olivia grinned, feeling the tension ease. "Come and eat," she suggested. "You can apologize to your sister later." 

"All right." Emma opened the door and moved into the living room, watching Alex light a couple of relaxing candles. "Don't hog all the garlic bread, Alexandra," Emma warned, grabbing her cup and moving to the kitchen. Alex smiled and watched her go, leaning against her dining room chair, watching Olivia. "Thanks," she said simply, moving back to setting the table. 

Olivia slid an arm around Alex's waist and kissed the back of her head quickly. "Told you you're stuck with me," she teased. "I didn't mention there were a couple of benefits." 

"Like you being the only one that can talk sense into my sister?" Alex chuckled. "In that case, I'm very happy to be stuck with you." 

Emma returned to the living room, offering a large groan. "Please don't ruin my appetite," she chastised, leaping as the song on her cell phone indicated she was getting a call. She grabbed it with a breathless "Hello?", and visibly relaxed as she heard the voice on the other end. "Hey, honey. No, I'm okay...I'm at Alex's. No, no, she doesn't mind." Emma moved back into the guest room, shutting the door for some privacy. 

Alex dished out some of the seafood pasta on to her plate and snagged a piece of garlic bread before Emma returned, knowing once her sister sat down, there would be no chance for the loaf sitting in front of them. She looked across the small table at Olivia. "How was the rest of your day?" 

"Not bad. Got a lot of paperwork done and made a couple calls to get tomorrow's trip underway." Olivia couldn't help smiling at Alex, her mind awash in wondering how they'd gotten to this place in such a relatively short time. 

"Good. I did the same thing, so we're good to head upstate first thing." Alex's head turned as Emma emerged from the bedroom, tossing her cell phone on the couch. "Mark says hi, sends his love, and an order to kick Peter's ass tomorrow."   
  


* * *  
  


As if it knew, the day began with a thunderstorm. The morning sky was gray, broken up by bright orange slices where the sun peeked through the cloudburst. Olivia realized she didn't have time to get to the precinct for a workout and still leave for Attica by eight, so she set out for a run. The rain pounded her face as lingering doubt drilled into her brain with the same piercing intensity. Olivia ran through the facts as her feet slapped against the unfamiliar pavement, her detective's training bringing her disbelief into sharp relief against her will to write this off as solely Peter Kelleher's work. Something more was involved, and she knew it; it tickled her brain annoyingly, daring her to find the last piece of the puzzle and put Emma's pain to bed once and for all. 

Alex emerged from the bathroom and nearly crashed straight into her sister, who was holding a mug of coffee as a peace offering. "Sorry I suck," Emma said succinctly, taking a sip of her own coffee. 

Alex smiled, heading back into the bedroom. Putting her cup on the dresser, she started to make the bed. "It's fine, Emma. You're allowed to be angry." Straightening her pillows, she regarded her haphazard sister still leaning sleepily against the doorway. "I do understand, you know." 

"I know," Emma replied. "Where's Olivia?" 

"Running. She should be back in a little bit." 

Emma nodded. "Okay. You want some breakfast?" 

"I'll get it," Alex started, then stopped as she saw the scary morning glare Emma shot her. "A bagel would be lovely, thank you." 

"A bagel is not a breakfast, Alexandra." 

"Get out of my room, Emma." Alex smiled and headed to her closet, loosening the towel she'd wrapped around her head. She picked her strongest black suit and set about her normal morning routine, in spite of her concern that the normalcy was quickly dissipating around her. She had to be sharp today; there was no question about that. Emotion and concern could have no place in their 'discussions' with Peter. It had to be stern and hard, completely uncompromising. At the very least, she owed that to her sister. 

Clearing her throat as she stepped into the doorway, Olivia flashed a smile at Emma. "I'd like two eggs, sunny-side up, rye toast and sausage. But, honey, this is Alex's apartment. All she has is baking soda to keep the fridge fresh." Alex had come into the living room, and Olivia shot her girlfriend a teasing grin. 

"I resent that remark, Detective Benson. I also have two bottles of wine, and a funny looking fuzzy thing that I think was once leftovers of some kind." 

Emma shuddered. "That's a visual I don't need in the morning." She leaned in towards Olivia, her next comment a stage whisper. "Besides, I had groceries delivered to her last week. She has actual examples of the food groups in her house." 

Feigning a gasp, Olivia's grin widened. "In that case, Alex will have the same thing I'm having, but make hers scrambled. I'm gonna go shower, 'cause we have to leave in less than an hour." 

"You got it." Emma disappeared into the kitchen, her humming carrying over the hissing of the eggs as they hit the hot pan. Alex rolled her eyes and returned to the bedroom, buttoning her blouse and watching Olivia strip out of the corner of her eye. "You two should have a show at Foxwoods. You'd amuse the tourists to no end, I'm sure." 

"Ah, stuff it," Olivia chuckled. Her mood grew somber as she added quietly, "I'm just trying to keep her mind off it as much as possible." 

"I know," Alex replied, following her girlfriend into the bathroom and grabbing the hair dryer. "Thanks." 

"Don't mention it." Olivia stepped under the hot spray and sighed. "I wish I could just kill him and end this all now." 

"I'll second that," Alex replied with a chuckle, turning the dryer on low and straightening her hair. "I'm concerned our little visit today won't deter him," she confided. "If he's being this brazen, what's to stop him from continuing? Certainly not us." 

"Alex..." Olivia began slowly. "I had a thought." She climbed out of the shower and wrapped herself in a towel, eyeing Alex. 

"What's that?" 

"Doesn't this seem a little...mmm...over the top for Kelleher?" 

"Over the top?" Alex shook her head, not understanding. "He's a pedophile serving a life sentence. He's lashing out at the woman he sees as wholly responsible for that. How is that different from anything else he's done?" 

"Well he never sent any notes before. He hired someone to kidnap Emma, and he intended to kill her," Olivia pointed out, roughly toweling her short hair dry. "This just seems melodramatic for him. Also, if his appeals have been anything to judge by," she added as gently as possible, "Kelleher blames you for his downfall, not Em." 

"Okay," Alex replied, the length of the drawn out word belaying her disbelief. "So if it's not Peter, who is it?" 

Olivia shook her head, reaching for the outfit she'd brought from home. "I don't know," she admitted, knowing full well Alex didn't agree with her theory. "It just doesn't sit right." 

Leaning against the bathroom counter, Alex regarded the woman in front of her, watching her slip into her oft-donned detective persona. "I trust your instincts, Olivia, you know that. But until we have another theory, and until my own gut stops telling me Kelleher's our guy, my money's on him." 

"I respect that, Alex," Olivia replied simply. "But," she contradicted herself, "you think maybe you're still too mad at him for what he did to Emma to even consider that Kelleher might not be responsible for this particular offense?" Olivia tugged her blazer on, completing her professional ensemble. 

"I just can't see anyone else wanting to do it. It's two years post-trial; if some sicko wanted to send her a note because of the media coverage, they would have done it then. There's nobody else, Olivia." 

"I know, but..." Olivia sighed, deciding to drop the subject. "Em, is breakfast about ready?" she called. 

"Yeah," Emma called back from the kitchen. "Come and get it while it's still hot...and before I eat it all myself." 

Alex sighed quietly as Olivia brushed past her into the dining area, but put on a complacent face for her sister. "My kitchen made that?" she asked, sitting down quickly. 

"No, honey, **I** made that. Your poor kitchen's in shock; I don't think anyone's ever used more than one burner at a time in there." Emma looked between her sister and Olivia, her eyes narrowing. "Everything okay?" 

"Sure," Alex replied, rising from her chair. "Anyone want more coffee?" 

"Alex, she's an adult. I think Emma has a right to hear everything that could possibly affect her." Olivia gripped her coffee cup, hoping she wasn't causing World War 3. 

Emma looked from her sister, who was now standing stone-faced in the kitchen doorway, back to Olivia, whose eyes were determined with truth. "What do I need to hear?" 

Alex drew her lower lip under her front teeth, her heart racing with anger. She knew Emma was an adult in physicality, but the maladaptive emotions that had been affecting her everyday activities, even two years after Peter was sent to prison, made her like a child again. To present her with the possibility that yet another person had the desire and opportunity to harm her would be unsettling at the very least, and could send her spiraling further out of control of her "adult" life. Alex finally turned slowly and looked at Emma. "Olivia and I were just discussing possibilities in your case, and we had a difference of opinion." 

Emma turned to Olivia. "Is that true?" 

Olivia glanced between the sisters. It was hard as hell to go against Alex's judgment - she did know Emma much better; but Olivia knew if she were in Emma's place, she'd want to know. "Yes. I'm not entirely sure your stepfather is responsible for the letter you received." 

"What?" Emma's eyes narrowed further, this time in confusion and concern. She looked at her sister momentarily, then looked back at Olivia. "Why would you think that?" 

"It's not his style," Olivia defended her assumption. "Kelleher's not a note-writing stalker." She decided she shouldn't sugarcoat the facts. "He wanted you, he grabbed you. He didn't bother with teasing you about it." 

"He can't do that now, being six hours away and behind bars in a maximum security prison," Emma replied. "Maybe he adapted his style to his new surroundings." 

Nodding, Olivia agreed. "It's possible. But I don't think so. This just...feels different." 

Emma turned to her sister, who still stood in the doorway. "What do you think about all this?" 

"I don't believe it," Alex said, her reply stronger than her previous comments. She looked at Olivia before returning her gaze to Emma's face. "But once we get the letter and envelope back from trace, we'll know more. Olivia's theory is just a standard part of the investigation, Em." 

"All right," Emma's disbelieving tone matched her sister's. She took another swig of coffee and rose from the table. "I have to be at the restaurant soon. I'm going to grab a shower." She hugged her sister quickly, ordering, "Call me and tell me what your interview yields," before heading off to the guest bathroom. Alex turned and started to rinse out her cup in the sink after she heard the water start running. 

"I'm sorry," Olivia said, gathering up the breakfast dishes. "But I think she had a right to know." 

"I know you think I'm being overprotective and coddling her. While I understand that she is almost thirty years old, in many respects - this being one of them - she's a child. She's going to worry about this all day, obsessively, Olivia. She's going to go back to making sure no one's following her, that no one can jump out of the bushes and get her." Alex leaned against the counter, gathering her thoughts. "If the lab doesn't find his fingerprints or his saliva on the letter and envelope, and if our interview yields nothing, then I will consider looking for other alternatives. Until then, I still feel there was no reason to burden her with this. You need to trust me." 

The dishes clattered as Olivia placed them in the sink. "That's how she has to be, Alex. Don't you get it?" Her brown eyes darkened as she stared the ADA down. "She **has** to keep looking behind her. She has to watch her back, just in case it isn't Kelleher." 

Alex rubbed the bridge of her nose before moving back into her bedroom and arranging her attaché. "We need to get going." 

Struck by Alex's tone, Olivia didn't respond. She gathered her coat and wallet, waiting silently by the front door. 

Alex hollered a goodbye to her sister over the sound of the rushing water and opened the door, allowing Olivia to exit first before locking the door behind her. She wasn't quite sure who she was madder at: Olivia for speaking her mind, or herself for feeling like Olivia just might be right. 

The cab ride to headquarters was silent, as was the short walk to meet Munch in the car requisition area. "I hope your bladders are empty, ladies," Munch said. "I'm not stopping every twenty minutes for potty breaks." 

"Get laid, John. It'll improve your outlook on life." Olivia climbed into the front seat without offering it to Alex. 

"Too many strings," Munch replied immediately, starting the car. Alex climbed into the backseat and settled in for the long ride to Attica.

Snorting, Olivia stared out the window as Munch got them out of the city and onto the highway.  
  


* * *  
  


"Can I help you, ma'am?" The guard looked warily between Olivia and Alex as both stood regally in front of him, both of their bodies exuding power. 

Alex answered first. "I'm Assistant District Attorney Alexandra Cabot. This is Detective Olivia Benson, and Detective John Munch, both out of Special Victims, 16th. We're here to see Peter Kelleher." 

"Yes, ma'am," the guard replied. "Detectives, please place your weapons and badges here," he pulled out a metal tray, "and all three of you need to wear these visitor badges. Sign here." As Alex took the pen and signed her name, the guard continued his requisite spiel. "You'll be going across to 'the Box', where Kelleher is now. Stay only on the path and with your escort; any deviation could result in bodily injury. You will pass through three checkpoints, so please keep your badges clearly visible. Once you get into solitary, you will be escorted to a secure meeting room. There will be two guards stationed with you during your interview with Kelleher. Any questions?" 

The detectives signed and dated the register, and dropped their accessories into the tray. 

After everything was in order, the guard pointed them to the side exit of the administration building, where another guard escorted the trio along the barbed wire fence and through the entrance to the Box. Alex had been to Riker's many times, and even as unsettling as those experiences had been, being in Attica was more unnerving on a much grander scale. She unconsciously kept close to Olivia, as they descended past the guard's electronic monitoring post and past the ten solitary cells and into the meeting room. 

The guards gave them a moment to get prepared before bringing Kelleher in. The door swung open silently, the heavy metal thumping densely against the concrete wall. Alex's stepfather strode in with a Cheshire Cat grin, his demeanor proud despite the shackles clanking loudly at his wrists and ankles. "Alexandra," he practically purred, his voice dripping with sarcasm, "how lovely of you to come visit." 

"Mr. Kelleher," Alex replied coldly, sitting straight in her chair, her crossed legs completely still. "We have some questions to ask you." 

"And I should answer them because..." Kelleher trailed off, a question in his voice. 

"Because if you don't, I can suggest that the guards keep you in solitary and ration your food and water until I decide you can eat again." 

Kelleher's grin vanished. "Then I'll file a lawsuit for civil rights violation. Don't fuck with me, Alex," he spat. 

"Please," Alex scoffed. "You don't have the power anymore. All your friends have turned their backs on you. They've shunned the Kelleher name. Or didn't you hear? Victoria's the laughing stock of Bridgeport, and dear old Caroline got her ass kicked in the primaries, mostly because of the fact that she has a history of defending child abusers. I call the shots. So you either sit back and listen, or I'll make what's left of your life unbearable. Which will it be?" 

"Take your best shot." Kelleher's voice was unruffled but his eyes were wary. He glanced over, seemingly noticing Olivia for the first time. 

"Did you, or did you not, send a letter to Emma last week?" Alex's gaze remained on Kelleher, even as his danced between her and the detectives. 

"Letter? I don't have time for correspondence, dear," Kelleher replied snidely. "I'm too busy stamping out license plates." 

"Prison records indicate you've sent out three letters in the past two weeks. Gotta love big brother," Munch interjected. 

"I'll ask you again. Was one of those letters to Emma?" Alex demanded. 

Turning to Olivia, Kelleher smiled grimly. "You're the detectives, you tell me." 

Olivia bit back a response, answering instead, "It's your call, Mr. Kelleher. If you're helpful to our investigation, we might be able to make your stay here a little more comfortable. If not, well..." She leaned back, her eyes defiant. 

"We already have your letter in custody, Peter," Alex tried again, her tone still low, but laced with a cat that ate the canary tone. "It's being processed for latent fingerprints and your DNA as we speak. We'll know by the end of the week that it's yours for sure. And then," Alex leaned in closer, "we'll fry you." 

Olivia's hand fell to Alex's knee, instinctively trying to hold the attorney back. "This is your last chance, Peter." 

"My last chance is the appeals process," he replied haughtily. "**You**, you **bitch**...you took away any chance I had at enjoying my life." In a split second, he had leapt up, striking out at Alex. 

The pain of Kelleher's hand striking against her jaw wouldn't set in for a few minutes. In the interim, Alex was out of her seat, and grabbed her stepfather's striking hand. She held a tight grip around his ring, middle and index fingers and bent them back, the crack of the bones breaking sending Kelleher back into the waiting arms of the guards in howling pain. Alex stood before him, breathing heavily, her eyes matching Olivia's in their defiance. "You destroyed your own life, Peter, the first time you preyed on that little girl. You did this, not me, and not Emma." She took half a step closer to him after she was certain the two guards had restrained his hands behind his back. "If you ever threaten her again, I will kill you. That's a promise." 

"Alex." Olivia's low voice tried to calm the lawyer. "We'll have the DNA soon. He can't touch her from in here anyway." 

Alex's gaze never wavered. "Maybe he'll learn that one of these days." She motioned to the guards with her throbbing chin. "Take him back to solitary." 

The two burly guards complied, a little embarrassed that they hadn't managed to restrain the shackled prisoner and keep him from striking the ADA. When the door clanged shut behind them, Olivia seemed to forget Munch was in the room. "Are you okay?" she asked, grasping Alex's shoulder gently. "Looked like he landed a good one on ya, lemme take a look." 

"It's all right," Alex said, wincing as Olivia's slender fingers brushed over the quickly purpling bruise. "Nothing a little ice and a lot of cover up won't fix." 

"I'm sorry." Olivia apologized for their fight under the guise of worry over Alex's bruised cheek. "I think you oughta get it looked at, though. Just in case." 

Alex met Olivia's eyes, her icy surrounds melting partly as the detective's warm brown soothed her. "I will." 

"Good. And don't be stubborn about it," the detective added, "or no—" Olivia caught herself as she remembered they weren't alone. "We oughta get going," she continued, as if nothing had happened. "We have a long drive back." She turned to Munch. "You and I should talk to Kelleher's cellmate and his regular guards before we leave." 

There was a slight rap on the door before one of the guards that had hauled Kelleher away reentered, with a portly gentleman in a suit. "I'm the Warden, Jeff Michaels. Officer Hanley here told me about your unfortunate incident with Prisoner Kelleher. May I escort you to the infirmary, ADA Cabot?" 

Alex's rebuttal of not needing medical attention slid off her tongue into silence as she felt Olivia's gaze on her, and the detective's warning still hung low in the air. "That would be fine, thank you. Can you please arrange for Detectives Benson and Munch to visit with Mr. Kelleher's guards and cellmate?" 

"Of course. Officer Hanley will escort you to Block C whenever you're ready." 

"Thanks." Olivia glanced back at Alex. "We'll meet you out front when we're done."

"Sounds good." Alex followed Michaels through the maze of corridors of Attica, while Munch watched Olivia's gaze follow the ADA out of the meeting room. Clearing his throat, he headed to the steel door. "Let's get this over with. I don't want to be stuck on the bridge all night." 

"Oh, bite me," she bantered lightly. "I'm driving home, anyway." 

Hanley escorted the pair across the grounds of the prison and handed them off to his colleagues. One, who had identified himself as Green, informed the two detectives that Kelleher's cellmate, a fellow serial pedophile by the name of Elias Rhodes, was already waiting for them in the holding room. Munch shook his head as Green unlocked the door. "I'm going to need a long shower after we get out of this hellhole." 

"You and me both," Olivia sighed wearily. 

Munch was successful only in containing half his snort. _Yeah, but that beautiful blonde of an __ADA__ won't be waiting in my shower._ He looked back at Olivia, the epitome of professionalism, thunderstruck as he thought about the detective and the attorney. _Good for them._ He swiftly entered the holding room, Olivia on his heels, once Green finally opened the door. "I'm Detective Munch, and this is Detective Benson. We're here to talk to you about Peter Kelleher." 

Rhodes scoffed, leaning back in his chair. "I don't know any Peter Kelleher." 

"He's your cellmate, you dipshit," Munch replied with a roll of his eyes. 

"Oh. Right. Real sicko, that one." 

_Moron__!_ Olivia sighed mentally. "Yeah, you an' him both. Didja happen to get a look at any of his letters before he sent 'em out?" The detective cut right to the point. 

"I know one was to his wife; we gave him hell after seeing all the mushy shit he wrote in it. The second was to his lawyer or real estate agent or something." 

"There was a third," Munch reminded. 

Rhodes shrugged. "I didn't see it." 

"He ever talk about why he's in here?" 

"Not really. He just sits on his bed and meditates an' shit like that. He did say he was gonna get the son of a bitch who ratted on him, though. Said he was doin' time for the both of 'em." 

"Max?" Olivia asked, disbelief clouding her voice. 

"No, it wasn't Max, but it did start with an M." Rhodes shrugged. "I don't remember." 

Her throat closed with the mere thought. They had never dismissed him as a suspect; after finding out Kelleher had ordered Max to kidnap Emma, it hadn't seemed to matter. His connection to the case, how conveniently he'd reappeared just before Emma was snatched hadn't seemed to matter; even the trace evidence was in a bag somewhere, rotting like Peter Kelleher in the jail that was now closing around Olivia, cutting off her air supply. "Mark?" she ventured, trying to keep both the eagerness and the nausea out of her voice. 

"Yeah, that's it." Rhodes nodded. "Whenever Pete talks about it, he always says his name like 'Marky Mark' like some rapper. We beat him up for it." 

"As well you should," Munch replied, watching Olivia's face drain of all color. "He say anything else about this Mark?" 

"Just that he's pissed off no one believes Mark was involved in the whole thing. Then he goes back to his yoga." 

"Pig-fucker." Olivia glanced up at Rhodes. "You ever hear Pete say anything more specific about Mark? You know, anything that might make us willing to knock a little bit of time off your stay here." 

"Naw, I swear, that's all he ever says. I mean, he talks about what he did to the girl...but I can see you're not really interested in those details." 

"Thanks for sparing us," Munch replied. 

"Pete says the whole thing was Mark's idea, and all he did was front the money and have a little fun with the girl. But Mark got away with everything else, and Pete's up in here." 

"Don't spose he gave you a last name?" Olivia asked, afraid to hope. 

"Nah. But he did say that this Mark kid married his daughter. So if you find her, you find him." Rhodes shook his head. "Sick bastard. Smart, but sick." 

Her professionalism shattered, Olivia turned and pounded on the door for Green to open it. When he did, she sprinted from the room. Tearing down the hall, Olivia found the bathroom with barely a nanosecond to spare before she lost the breakfast Emma had so carefully prepared that morning. The thought tearing through her mind was simple. If anything happened to Emma, it was Olivia's fault.

THE END


	7. Forsaken

"Hey there, little lady, you lookin' for a ride?" 

Alex turned and shook her head at Munch, who was leaning out of the passenger side window. She climbed in the back, her eyes meeting Olivia's in the rearview mirror. "Did they take care of you?" Munch continued as Olivia steered them out of the front gates. 

"Yep. He just caught my cheekbone; nothing an icepack and some codeine won't fix," Alex replied as she buckled her seatbelt. "Did the guards and the cellmate give you anything on Kelleher?" 

"No," Olivia answered before Munch could. "Nothing we can work with." 

Munch shot a look at Olivia, one that was blocked from Alex's view, but said nothing. 

"He said nothing?" Alex shook her head in disbelief. "I don't know why I'm surprised; Kelleher's defended enough people to know a jailhouse snitch can be deadly to the appeals process." She leaned back in the seat, resting her head against the interior but being careful not to lean on the wounded side of her face. "What next?" 

"You go home." Olivia risked a glance in the rearview. "Munch and I will go through Emma's file and see if anything jumps out at us." 

"Any suggestions on what I tell her? She's going to want to know something." 

Shaking her head, Olivia swallowed a sigh. "Tell her we won't stop looking until we find something." 

"This doesn't rule him out, does it? I mean, if no one gave you anything, it's still possible Kelleher's behind this whole thing." Alex searched Olivia's eyes in the mirror, searching for an answer that was apparently not there. 

Averting her gaze, Olivia didn't have an answer for Alex; at least, she didn't have one that would satisfy the ADA. Olivia was torn between betraying the trust of the woman she'd come to care so much for, and her own anger and disappointment in herself for missing Mark's connection to Emma's kidnapping. So she kept her mouth shut, grateful to Munch for doing the same, and hoped the answer would reveal itself upon closer scrutiny of the file. 

The silence perplexed her slightly; was she wrong in thinking Olivia was holding something back from her? Alex deleted that thought from her head with a simple shake of her blonde tresses. Olivia knew how much keeping Emma safe meant to her; she wouldn't hold anything back if it meant achieving that goal. She settled back into her seat, and as the pavement scrolled by underneath the wheels of the sedan, the soothing motion rocked her painkiller-laden body to sleep. 

She slept most of the way, sitting up only as she felt the passenger's side door close. Alex sat up, running a quick hand through her hair, trying to make herself look halfway decent. On wobbly legs, she got out of the car, grateful as Olivia discreetly wrapped a steadying arm around her waist. "Are you staying here to work?" Alex asked, her voice husky after her long nap. 

"Yeah. I've got a lot to do." Olivia's heart ached to tell Alex everything, to get her take on the case as she'd always done with her, but there was no way. Elliot would be a more objective sounding board, anyway. "Let's get you in a cab, 'kay?" 

"'Kay." They walked in companionable silence down the block before a cab stopped in front of them. "Call me if you get a sec, okay?" Alex asked, opening the car door. 

"Yeah. Might not be until late," Olivia warned. 

"When has that stopped you before?" Alex teased, brushing her hand against the detective's. "Whenever you get a sec," she repeated. 

"Okay." Olivia pressed a discreet kiss to Alex's forehead as she climbed into the cab. "Lexington, between 107 and 108." She handed the driver enough money to cover the ride and a generous tip. 

Elliot descended down the steps and cleared his throat, watching Olivia's eyes follow the cab speeding away from them. "Munch tells me you've signed me up for an all-nighter." 

"So've you," she informed him, turning on her heel to face her partner. "Call Kathy, tell her you won't be home." 

"Liv, what's goin' on?" 

Meeting his earnest gaze, Olivia's resolve crumbled. "Mark Miller," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "He conspired with Kelleher to kidnap Emma. We have a convict's word on that; we just have to prove it." 

Elliot took a deep breath, placing a strong, steady hand on Olivia's shoulder. "Think about what you just said. A **convict** told you Emma's **husband** had something to do with her kidnapping." At Olivia's biting gaze, Elliot made sure his next words were void of any potentially inflammatory words. "We went through that case with a fine tooth comb. What makes you think we missed something?" 

"A dozen little pieces of evidence I thought of on the way back from Attica," Olivia replied, handing him the receiver to his phone. "Call Kathy." She strode out in search of food and coffee. It was going to be a long night. 

* * *

At seven the next morning, Alex checked her cell phone and her home answering machine, concerned when neither indicated a message from Olivia. Filling her coffee cup, she dialed Olivia's desk and got her voicemail. She hung up before leaving a message, and tried Elliot's desk, frowning around her sip of coffee when she got the same message. She tried Olivia's apartment, still to no avail. Finally, she called Donald's office, surprised when his gruff reply entered her ears. "Hey, it's me," she said. "Is Benson with you?" 

"She's in the rack," Cragen replied. "She and Stabler decided to catch a few before everyone else got here. Why?" 

"No reason," Alex replied, amending her comment after an instant. "She was supposed to call me last night, that's all."

"And you were just checking in?" Cragen teased, familiar with Alex's habits. "She's fine." 

"Okay then," Alex replied, grabbing her bathrobe and chucking it in the bathroom. "I guess I'll check in with you later." 

"Sounds good." Cragen rose from his desk and headed into the bullpen, catching Munch's eye as the detective put his personal belongings in his locker. "You're here early. Putting in overtime?" 

"I couldn't sleep," Munch replied, locking his things up and settling at his desk. "Where's the gang?" 

"Benson and Stabler are in the racks. They gave up about an hour ago," Cragen replied, offering Munch a cup of coffee. "I'm giving them till seven-thirty or so." 

"Give 'em till nine," Munch said, uncharacteristically genuine. "Fin said he'd be here in about fifteen, we'll thumb through the files 'till they get up." 

"I doubt they'll sleep that long," Cragen replied. "When I got here at five, they were still truckin'. Benson's convinced we missed something the first time around." He took another sip of coffee, resting against Fin's desk. "You were there yesterday. Do you think we can take Rhodes at his word?" 

Munch thought for a moment, tapping a pencil against the top of his desk. "Yeah, I do. He had nothin' to gain by lying to us, 'cept maybe an extra couple of years in prison." 

"You understand the implications of that statement," Cragen defended. "It means Peter Kelleher is telling the truth, and Emma's in more danger than ever."

"It means he's telling the truth about **this**," Munch agreed, "and I know." His eyes were unreadable, save for the sheen of determination. "Which is why I'm here early, and why I was up all night. I agree with Olivia. We missed something critical, I just don't know—" 

"The cat hair." Olivia strode into the room, exhaustion written all over her face. Her shoulders were squared against the day. "Once we caught Kelleher in the act, there was a ton of trace evidence we didn't bother running." 

Somewhere inside him, Cragen's heart broke looking at the detective's drained features. "The hair could have been brought to Emma's place by any number of people, Max being one of them. Didn't we see a cat when we nailed him at his apartment?" 

"Mark also gave Emma a tabby for Christmas," Elliot replied, emerging into the fold with a yawn. "He could have adopted it months in advance." 

"He's admitted to being in her apartment the night she was kidnapped," Cragen played devil's advocate, knowing neither Cabot sister would accept this change of theory without concrete evidence. 

"We'll get a sample from Emma's cat and from Max's cat and compare it to the sample that's in trace," Elliot replied. 

"Good. Where are we on the letter and envelope?" 

"I talked to the lab a couple of hours ago." Olivia held the thin file out to Elliot as she informed them all of the results. "No saliva, so no DNA evidence. No latent prints either. The perp wore latex gloves. My thinking is, where's a man in a maximum security prison gonna get a pair of latex gloves without answering a lot of questions?" 

"That's a good question," Elliot replied, looking to his captain. For as much as they were involved with Emma as a group, Cragen had a much larger personal angle to deal with. 

"All right," Cragen said after a second, "find out where Mark is, very quietly. Find out if he was in town on the day Emma received the letter. Olivia, do you think you can talk your way into Emma's apartment?" 

"Mark doesn't know he's a suspect. Shouldn't be a problem." Olivia rooted around in her desk for a trace evidence kit. 

"Look for anything, including the latex, and get a chunk of the cat if you can," Cragen ordered unnecessarily. "Elliot, you, John and I are going step by step through this thing again and figuring out how the hell Mark can be involved in this." 

"Yup," Elliot replied, rolling his shirtsleeves back up. 

"Nothing leaves here," Cragen enunciated through clenched teeth. "I don't want either sister breathing down my neck. Do it quietly." 

"Got it, Cap." Olivia turned to leave, turning back to catch Munch's eye. "This is for Em," she murmured. "We gotta make it right." 

"You call us when you're ready to nail the son of a bitch," Munch said, curling his hand around Olivia's shoulder, watching her tired body stiffen with responsibility and duty as she emerged into the early morning. 

"Okay," Cragen said, looking at the event board Olivia and Elliot had set up during the night, "do we know where Mark was during the rest of our investigation?" 

Elliot shook his head. "After we released him, we had him on twenty-four hour surveillance for a day. Did nothing but go to school and work." 

"What about this phone call Olivia received at the restaurant? Our assumption was that Kelleher called from the boat." 

"He wouldn't have had enough time to get from the restaurant, where he'd followed Olivia and Alex, to the pier to make the call," Munch replied. "It took us twenty-five minutes, and that was with sirens." 

"We had assumed Kelleher wouldn't use any other third party contacts," Elliot replied. "The assumption Kelleher was outside was a good one." 

"He would have had to leave Emma alone to do that," Munch pointed out. "So, assuming Mark was involved, he would have had to baby-sit Emma, or..." 

"He was babysitting us," Cragen replied, staring at the picture of Emma that Alex had supplied two years earlier. Her blonde hair fell around her tilted face, Cabot eyes bright and teasing in a familiar look. "Mark followed the investigation after we dropped the tail, and when he saw his chance, had Kelleher call to taunt us. He could have been standing outside the restaurant watching Olivia and Alex, and called Kelleher with the location." 

"We still haven't figured out whose idea the whole thing was, though," Elliot commented. "Was Kelleher pissed off enough at Emma that he would call an old boyfriend to do his dirty work?" 

Cragen shook his head. "Mark and Emma got together long after she'd stopped talking to the Kellehers. Mark would have had to initiate the call. Fuck!" Cragen slammed his hand down on the desk. "He played us like a fuckin' orchestra." 

"We're unraveling him, Cap," Elliot said after a moment. 

"I'll get Mark's phone records for six months before Emma's kidnapping. Maybe they'll show something we missed the first time around," Munch offered, picking up his own extension and dialing Bell Atlantic. 

"Do you think Huang could be useful in this? Mark's a sneaky bastard; maybe we need to be just as sneaky," Elliot commented to Cragen, who nodded. 

"Wait until eight, then call him for a consult. Let's hope Olivia finds something at Emma's place." Cragen sighed internally, but his fist remained clenched around a stray pencil. He, too, felt the determination to bring anyone down who was even minutely associated with the hell Emma had been through. 

The phone rang shrilly as Olivia waited impatiently for Emma to answer. 

"Hello?" Emma answered around her mouthful of toast. 

"Em, it's Olivia. Listen, I hate to bug you so early, but can I come over?" 

"Uh, sure, Olivia. What's up? Are you okay?" 

"Yeah, I'm fine. I just need to talk to you about something." Olivia hated hiding the truth from Emma, but had no choice. She heard noise in the background and tried to make her voice conversational as she asked, "Is Mark back from Ohio?" 

"Yeah, he flew in last night," Emma replied, lowering her voice. "He's trying to make coffee." 

"Oh, all right. When does he leave for work? I can wait until then." Olivia tried to keep her voice level. 

"He's heading out in about ten or fifteen minutes. Do you want some breakfast?" 

Olivia's mind raced as her feet paced outside the 16th precinct, the unusual chill of the spring day slowing her steps slightly. "No. Actually, Em, it's kind of...police business. Don't repeat what I just said," the detective added in a hurry. "I don't want Mark to know," Olivia lied, "I mean, until we have something concrete. I just need to run some stuff by you." 

The brief confusion that crossed Emma's face was quickly replaced by a smile for her husband as he emerged from their bedroom. "Sure, that sounds great. I'll see you then." 

"Thanks, Em." Olivia sighed in relief, pocketing the cell phone. Now she had twenty minutes to kill and a heart so strained with worry over what Mark might do at any moment that she could barely concentrate. One thought washed to the shore of her brain: Alex. _Shit._ Olivia dialed rapidly, hoping her girlfriend was still at home - and hoping she still had a girlfriend. 

Alex was halfway out the door when her phone rang. She looked over her shoulder at the offending cordless and finally let the apartment door slam on her attaché in favor of stopping the ringing. "Hello?" 

"Alex, it's Olivia. I'm sorry I didn't call last night, but..." 

"Oh, that's okay," Alex replied quickly, sitting on the arm of her couch. "I know how you get. Where are you?" 

"I'm still at work. I—there was a development yesterday. I didn't tell you then because I didn't think I had anything solid and I know how you get. I mean, you reamed me out for screwing up the Edwards chain of evidence. I knew I had to have something solid before you'd believe me, and I need you to be on my side for this, Alex."  Olivia's voice was low as her feet kept up their frantic pace along the sidewalk. "Emma's gonna go crazy and I can't do this alone." 

"Olivia, what's going on? What didn't you tell me?" The frantic undertone was testament to how Olivia's hurried words had worried Alex.

"I'll explain everything," Olivia promised softly. "Meet me at Emma's in fifteen minutes." 

"All right." Alex grabbed her bag from between the wall and the door and hurried to the front of her building. She quickly hailed a cab, and leapt out of it just as quickly as it stopped in front of Emma's apartment. Olivia was already waiting for her, and it was obvious she hadn't slept. Alex raised her eyebrows, both in confusion and as an imploratory gesture for information. 

Olivia didn't say a word, combing through her tousled hair with her hand, trying to rake the mess into some semblance of order. She eyed her put-together counterpart and had to shake her head as they headed into the apartment building. 

They said nothing as the elevator ascended to Emma's apartment, and the silence continued as Alex rapped on her sister's door. Emma opened it swiftly, her expression similar in content to her older sister's. She opened the door wordlessly, allowing both women to pass, and lingered in her entry hallway before she broke the cloak of silence draped over them. "So what's the big secret?" 

"Mark gone to work?" Olivia asked conversationally. 

"I was just heading out, Liv." Mark appeared from the bedroom. "Getting a late start today." His smile seemed genuine but Olivia felt a chill run down her spine as she faked a smile. 

"Happens to the best of us," she said lightly. "Do you and Emma have plans tonight?" Olivia added, to cover her first question. 

"Not that I know of." Mark bent to give Emma a kiss goodbye. "You planning something?" 

"Oh, I just wanted to test out my new portable grill; thought maybe we could do burgers?" Olivia thought her plastic smile, held in place by sheer will, wouldn't have fooled a kindergartener. 

Mark grinned back, head tilted, wondering at Olivia's expression. "Sounds great," he volunteered for himself and Emma. "Sevenish?" 

"Great." 

Mark waved at the three as he stepped into the hall, lingering outside the closed apartment door a little longer than necessary. Something wasn't right. 

Emma waited until the front door clicked shut before lowering her voice. "I couldn't get him out of here fast enough. Sorry about that." She emerged further into the living room and sat on her couch, looking up at her sister and the detective. "So, again I ask, what's the big secret?" 

Olivia waited a long moment before speaking. "Okay, what I'm going to say is going to freak you out - no question. But I need you both to be calm and rational, and listen to the evidence before you dismiss it. Okay?" The detective glanced between the sisters, waiting for some kind of acknowledgement. 

"Fine," Emma answered for both of them, seemingly unaware that her sister was also in the dark. 

Olivia explained the events of the past few days, starting with Emma's receipt of the note, and ending with the content of the conversations Rhodes had relayed to her and Munch the day before. She waited, breath held, for a reaction. 

Emma sat, eyes dulled with confusion, staring at Olivia. Finally, she turned to her sister, whose brain was processing the information at a thousand miles per hour. "Let me get this straight," Emma finally said, voice hoarse. "You think Mark orchestrated my kidnapping?" 

Alex shook her head momentarily, looking between Olivia and Emma. "This is the first I've heard the details," Alex confessed. She turned fully to Olivia. "You're sure?" 

"As sure as I can be. We didn't get any latents or DNA off the note," Olivia said, slipping into coptalk, "but we're processing some trace evidence that got filed two years ago." 

Alex gingerly rubbed a hand over her mouth, contemplating what Olivia was telling them. "And you think you can take Rhodes at his word?" 

Emma leapt off the couch before Olivia had a chance to even form a reply. "Wait a minute, wait a minute. Just hang on one damn second. Do not tell me, Alexandra, that you believe this garbage." 

Alex looked at her sister sympathetically. "Emma—" 

"No. No. This is bullshit." Emma started to shake with anger, her teeth clenched. "You think this man, this wonderful man who has cared for me, came back when I needed him the most - and **stayed **- this man, who has made me happier than I've ever been in my entire life...you think this is the man who was the mastermind behind the two most terrifying days of my--?" Emma's chin started to tremble as her sentence hung around them. 

"Honey, maybe Olivia has a point—" 

"Damn it, Alexandra, listen to yourself!" Emma's scream surprised Alex, and she took half a step back from her sister. "Why are you defending her? I'm your sister!" 

"Wait a minute," Alex said sternly. "I am not defending anyone over anyone else. I just don't think we should dismiss this so easily." 

"You are fucking unbelievable, Alex." Emma shook her head and sat back down on the couch, teeth still bared in anger. Finally, she looked up at Olivia, eyes ablaze with fury. "Why didn't you figure this out two years ago, Columbo? Are you that bored over there that you have to destroy a victim's life a second time? Or maybe you wanted to impress your girlfriend a little more, so you took a little of your so-called evidence and decided to try and prove Alex right. She's never liked Mark. So here was your big chance to prove her right." 

Forcing herself to speak around the lump of guilt in her throat, Olivia crossed the distance and sank onto the couch beside Emma. "Em," she said softly, "the last thing in the world I ever wanted was to hurt you. And if you knew how hard Alex wants to fight me right now, you'd never think I was impressing anyone with this. I hate thinking Mark had anything to do with what happened to you, honey, but the fact is that there are lots of loose ends and unexplained evidence." Olivia paused for breath. "Emmy," she said softly, "I love you like you're my own sister, and I'd do anything to make this untrue. But you're right. I didn't do my job thoroughly two years ago, and now you're paying the price." Olivia's sincerity was reflected in the hurt pooling in her dark eyes. "I'm so sorry." 

Emma had to turn away from Olivia's eyes for a moment, before looking back at the detective, gaze still steel. "Prove it to me now, Detective Benson." The words were venomous and still strong. "What evidence, other than the dubious word of a felon, do you have that my husband was involved in this?" 

"We're processing the trace evidence from Kelleher's trial," Olivia said, trying to maintain a business face. "We have the cat hair that was found in your apartment when you were kidnapped.  Our lab techs are going to compare that to a sample from Max's cat, and one from Louie, if you'll consent to give us one." 

"He's under the bed. You're welcome to him, if you can hold him still. What else?" Emma's discomfort as the information hit her started to manifest itself in her posture, as she started to fidget, pushing her hair behind her ear. Finally, she steadied herself with folded arms across her chest. 

Trying not to be hurt by Emma's biting tone, Olivia continued. "Kelleher called me and Alex at the restaurant, an hour or so before we found you, remember?" 

"Yeah. He held the phone up to my ear and I talked to you and Allie. What about it?" 

The gasp that came out of Alex's mouth was shattered. "Oh, shit." The attorney looked from Olivia to her sister. "How did he know we were there, Emma? If he was on the boat with you the whole time, how would he have known we were at that restaurant?" 

Emma's breathing became more labored, more panicky as she fought for an answer. "Well, he drugged me pretty good on that boat. Maybe he left and then came back." 

"He didn't have time, Em," Olivia replied, aching to wrap her arms around both the Cabot women and hold on for dear life. "It took us twenty-five minutes to get to the pier, sirens blaring. It would've taken Kelleher at least thirty-five, considering traffic, and he beat us there." 

Emma covered her mouth with a shaky hand, and as the tears started, her sister moved over to the couch and wrapped an arm around her baby sister. Emma allowed the comfort for a minute before pushing Alex away in favor of pacing her living room. "What if Peter did have another flunky, like Max? It doesn't necessarily have to be Mark. And you didn't find any fingerprints on that letter, so you still don't have a forensic tie to him." 

"The cat hair is a big clue," Olivia reminded her. "If it's Louie's, it'll prove that Mark had the cat before he gave it to you, and that he was in your apartment the night you were taken." 

"He said he just got it at Christmas," Emma defended. "I still believe him. And besides," she countered, arms still crossed, "how would he have been able to contact Peter? I hadn't talked to them for years before I even met Mark." 

Alex sighed and broke in, her pleading eyes meeting Emma's tired, determined stare. "I know you talked to Mark all the time about Peter, and I'm sure you used first and last names. All Mark needed to do was call information and get the phone number." 

Emma's face crumbled as she lashed out at her sister again. "Stop it! Stop it, Alexandra!" Emma stormed over to the door and threw it open, looking back at the two women still sitting on her couch. "Get out! GET OUT!" 

Olivia stood and steeled herself against Emma's backlash. Stepping between Alex and her sister, Olivia made her voice firm. "Emma Katherine, you need to stop and think about this rationally. We're just trying to protect you from any possibility that you're in danger." 

"Screw you," Emma seethed, but she let the door fall shut. "You still haven't convinced me," she added unnecessarily. 

"Was there anything else, Olivia?" Alex asked, her voice low. 

Nodding, Olivia said, "There's one more thing. Em, has Mark purchased any latex gloves recently?" 

Emma's chin raised, her eyes gleaming with victory. "Nope. He says gloves make him itch. You can check the bathroom if you want." But as quickly as her eyes turned bright with success, they fell a thousand stories into despair, and she grasped on to the wall for support.

Alex was up and at her side instantaneously. "Emma? Emma, talk to me." 

"He said he didn't like the gloves, so he got the liquid kind instead."

The whisper was so faint that Alex had to work it over in her head before she could utter a response. "He has liquid latex?" 

"In his desk," Emma confirmed. "Oh, God. I picked it up for him the week before I got the letter." 

Olivia joined the sisters, resting her hand on Emma's shoulder. "I'm going to get the bottle," she said. "I'll have the lab match it against the latex trace we found on the envelope; then we'll know for sure either way." She squeezed Emma's shoulder. "I'm sorry, honey. This is all my fault." Olivia made the admission with quiet honesty tinged by guilt that no comfort could assuage. "And I'm going to fix it." She turned to Alex, fishing a plastic bag out of her pocket. "Alex, can you find Louie and get me a hair sample? Emma needs to start packing." 

"Of course," Alex replied, guiding her sister into the bedroom. With Emma's help, she trapped the unamused cat and petted him a few times, getting enough hair for a good comparison. As Louie scampered back under the bed, meowing with indignity, Alex moved to Emma's closet and pulled out her duffel bag, throwing necessities into it. "I want you to go to my place for the rest of the day," she ordered in her no-nonsense ADA tone. "You are not to come back here without a police escort, do you hear me?" 

Emma, sitting on the edge of the bed, nodded mutely. "I need to go to the restaurant," she replied weakly. "We have inspectors today." 

"Someone else needs to handle it," Alex replied, zipping the bag up. 

Emma shook her head. "I'll be fine, I promise. I'll tell the staff not to let Mark in if they see him. The inspector won't talk to anyone but me, and we're already three weeks behind schedule." 

"Emma Katherine—" 

Emma held up her hand. "Alex, I really can't do this right now. I need normalcy. I will go, have my meeting with the inspector, and then I'll go straight to your place. I'll call you every step of the way, I promise." 

"I don't think it's a good idea." Alex tried one more time, even though the patented glare her sister was giving her informed her that her protests were to no avail. 

"Alex, please." 

Alex sighed, handing her sister the duffel. "Straight to my place, okay?" 

Emma rose. "I promise." 

The sisters headed back into the living room, and Alex handed Olivia the evidence bag containing some of the cat fur. "Let's get this to evidence." 

Having heard most of the conversation, Olivia took the bag from Alex with a slight nod. "I'm gonna take this down personally and make sure it's rush priority. Are you going to be okay getting to the restaurant on your own?" 

Emma nodded. "I'll be fine. And I'll call both of you when I get to the restaurant, and when I get to Allie's." 

"Good." Olivia squeezed Emma's shoulder again, deciding to forgo the hug until both their emotions had settled a little more. "Be careful." 

"I will. You guys go ahead; I want to make sure Louie has enough food and water for a little while." 

Alex offered a small smile at her sister, who weakly returned it as she moved into the kitchen. Alex heard her bustling about and finally headed back into the building's hallway. She leaned against the wall, her chin dropping to her chest. "Son of a bitch." 

"I know." Stepping forward, Olivia held out her arms for Alex, wondering as she did so if the other woman wanted anything more to do with her now. She was, at the end of the day, the cause of her sister's heartache. 

Alex did indeed seek refuge in the comfort of Olivia's arms, cradling her head in the crook between Olivia's neck and shoulder. She wrapped her arms around the other woman's slender waist, closing her eyes as she took a deep, allegedly calming breath. "Do me a favor," she said, her voice vibrating against Olivia's collarbone. 

"Anything." 

Alex leaned back and fell into Olivia's gaze, her arms still wrapped around the detective's waist. "Stop blaming yourself. We all wanted it to be Kelleher - and it was Kelleher. He's still guilty of kidnapping her and raping her. We didn't have enough to tie Mark to the plot back then, but now we do, and we're taking care of it. You've done nothing wrong. Got it?" 

Pushing Alex away gently, Olivia shook her head, turning to leave. "I'll come to your place tonight, if I can." 

"Okay," Alex replied, following Olivia to the elevators. As they descended to the street level, Alex couldn't find anything to say to Olivia on a personal level, so she opted for the professional level instead. "Call me when you get the results on the latex and the cat hair."

* * *  
  


The fear that had settled in Alex's chest was one she hadn't felt since Emma's disappearance two years earlier. She couldn't catch a breath, and yet, she felt like she was hyperventilating. She hurriedly dialed Olivia's extension, her command of "Pick up, pick up", slurred with adrenaline. 

"Benson." 

"It's me. Have you heard from Emma?" 

"No. You haven't either?" Olivia asked worriedly. "I thought she just forgot to call me." 

"I've been calling her cell and the apartment for the last hour. She's not answering either line. I finally tracked down her assistant at the restaurant, and she said Emma never showed this morning." Alex waved her assistant away, extending the phone cord around her desk and kicking the door shut. "They want me in court for an arraignment in two minutes. Can you go to the apartment and check on her for me?" 

Olivia motioned Munch over to her desk. "I'm surrounded by latex samples. I'll have Munch and Elliot go; I'll call as soon as they call me, okay?" 

"Thank you." Alex disconnected, and hurried to the elevator and her arraignment, her mind far away from bail amounts. 

"What's up?" Munch queried, leaning against Olivia's desk. 

Olivia sighed, leaning back in her chair and looking up at him. "Emma was supposed to call me and Alex when she got to work. That was over an hour ago, and she hasn't called or shown up. Can you take Elliot and go check up on her?" 

"Of course." In the time that had passed since Emma's return, the old, crotchety detective and the young, vivacious quick wit had struck up an odd sort of friendship. Just as Cragen and Olivia did, Munch had a protectiveness attached to Emma; she was one of the only cases he had really allowed himself to get attached to. Munch strode out of the bullpen and caught Elliot returning back to his desk. "You're with me." 

They arrived at Emma's apartment fifteen minutes later, and after a cursory search of the surrounding alleys, they got the super to let them in. Munch made it to Emma's door first, and started knocking. "Emma!" 

Elliot shushed Munch. "Didja hear that?" he asked quietly. The soft gasping moan was repeated and Elliot's face set into a fierce growl. "One," he mouthed. "Two, three." On three, he threw the weight of his body against his shoulder, thrusting against the door. The wood splintered under his weight. 

Gun drawn, Munch entered the apartment first, ready to shoot anything and everything that got in his way. "Clear!" he called to Elliot, searching the living room. He heard the soft groaning sound again, and followed it behind the overstuffed chair placed in front of the window. Emma Cabot lay bloody and bruised against the side of the chair, only half-conscious. "Emma," Munch whispered, cupping her cheek. "Emma, can you talk to me?" Emma's black eyes fluttered, and she sighed again. Munch looked back to the front door, and called again to Elliot, "Get an ambulance here." 

Dialing 911, Elliot relayed the address and Emma's condition before securing the rest of the apartment. "Bastard got away," he informed Munch, helping lift Emma onto the couch. 

"Emmy," Munch whispered, smoothing the blood-soaked strands of once-blonde hair away from her forehead, "can you tell me what happened?" 

Emma took several wheezing breaths, and Munch couldn't help but wince; it was obvious whoever had done this had broken her ribs and potentially clipped her lung in the process. "M—Mark," she finally managed, opening her eyes in a moment of clarity. "He's...coming..." 

"Shh," Elliot said, rubbing her right forearm, the only part of Emma without a bruise. "Never mind, don't talk, you're gonna make it worse." He made eye contact with Munch, warning the other man with a look. "You'll be fine, sweetie." The whine of ambulances could be heard in the background. 

"Alex—" Emma tried one more time, before Munch shook his head. "Elliot's right. You just rest." Emma's eyes closed, and for a heart-stopping second, Munch thought she might have stopped breathing. But the wheezing continued as Emma was loaded onto a stretcher. 

"Which one of you wants to go with her?" The EMT asked as his partner wheeled Emma to the elevator. 

"I'll go," Munch volunteered. Turning to Elliot, he said, "You'll call Benson?" 

"Right before I track Miller down and—" Elliot let the threat dangle in the air. Leaning around the EMTs, he brushed a hand over Emma's fingers. "It's okay, Emma. Olivia and I will take care of him," Elliot echoed his partner's earlier sentiment. As soon as the ambulance had gone, he dialed Olivia's desk.  "She was here, beaten to hell and back," he said without preamble. 

"Fuck," Olivia whispered. "Is—how is she?" 

"I think her ribs are broken, but she was coherent." Elliot sighed, rubbing a hand over his eyes. "We really dropped the ball, Liv." 

"Yeah. I've gotta let Alex know. They take her to Columbia?" Olivia asked. 

"Yup. Alex's gonna want to go to the hospital, so maybe Donnelly can get us the arrest warrant. Emma IDed Mark as soon as she came to. She thinks he's coming back, and when he does, I'd like to be prepared - for once." Elliot cursed himself for missing the evidence that had been there all along. 

"Gotcha. Thanks, Elliot." Olivia hung up and practically sprinted to Alex's office, calling Donnelly's office on the way.  She arrived breathless and barely able to think. 

The knock at her door nearly startled her into a gasp, but after a quick clearing of the throat, Alex called, "Come in." 

Olivia stepped in, fighting a rush of emotion as she faced Alex's worried eyes. 

Alex was out of her chair so fast it hit the wall behind her with a thud. "Anything?" 

"They found Emma," Olivia began slowly. "She was pretty badly beaten." 

"Jesus," Alex breathed. She grabbed her coat off the back of her chair. "Where is she?" 

"Columbia Presbyterian. Alex, I hate to ask it, but we need a warrant, and Donnelly's not in," Olivia winced.

"No, of course. Um..." Alex turned in a circle for a minute, trying to get her mind in order. She moved over to her filing cabinet, trying to create some semblance of detachment. She bent her head after a minute and took a deep breath. "Is someone with her?" 

"Munch went in the ambulance. You know he won't let her out of his sight." Olivia took a few steps closer, pressing a hand to Alex's back as she bent over the files. "I'm sorry, honey. But Elliot says she should be okay." 

Alex nodded, taking the warrant request out of her files. She sat back down at her desk, dialing Judge Petrovsky's chambers. "Hi, Amanda, this is Alex Cabot. Yeah, I'm going to need Her Honor's signature on an arrest, search and records warrant. Five minutes? Thanks." Alex made sure not to look at Olivia as she filled out the request; if she had, the personal nature would have hit home so hard, there would be no turning back, she was sure. 

She finished the requisite information and again grabbed her jacket, motioning for Olivia to follow her. "I'm going to argue briefly, and I'll pass the warrant on to you immediately, okay? Just wait outside her chambers for me." 

"Okay. Alex?" 

Alex stopped her hurried pace and turned to face the brunette. "Yeah?" 

"I'm sorry." The guilt was evident in Olivia's eyes. "If I could take her place..." 

Alex shook her head immediately, rising up one step and staring Olivia straight in the eye. "I might arguably be more affected than I am right now," Alex replied, mostly without thinking. She brushed her hand against Olivia's before she continued. "You remember the Cavanaugh case?" 

"Yeah." Olivia tried not to react to Alex's declaration. 

"You told me my guilt wouldn't change anything. Well, now I'm throwing your words back at you. You couldn't - you couldn't have known." They both knew that there was one minor detour that could have potentially stopped Mark, but now that the damage was done, there was no reason to harp on it. "She needs you to be strong; she needs her angel, remember?" Alex lowered her voice again. "I need you to be strong." 

Drawing a deep breath, Olivia shook her head with a wry smile. "How do you do that?" she asked, as they walked down the hall toward the judge's office. 

Alex had to meet Olivia's smile. "Do what?" 

"Make me feel like a hero." Not waiting for an answer, Olivia leaned over and kissed Alex gently. 

"I'll be right back," Alex said quietly, brushing her hand against Olivia's before knocking on the door. True to her word, Alex emerged in less than five minutes with comprehensive warrants for Mark. "Kick his ass for me." 

"That's ironic," Olivia said as she took the warrants. "That's the same thing Mark said about Peter yesterday." 

"Well, let's show him we follow through." Alex raised her eyebrows in solidarity and strength. "I'm going to Columbia now. Call me on my cell if you need me, okay?" 

"Okay. Give Em my best." Olivia turned and strode off, her exhaustion from having two hours' sleep in the past two days evident in her slowed pace. 

* * *  
  


Munch returned to SVU headquarters about an hour later, after Alex had settled in for Emma's overnight observation. "She's got two broken ribs, a concussion, and a lot of bruising, inside and out. But she'll be fine, and out of the hospital by tomorrow afternoon. Alex is staying with her tonight," he told the squad. "No need for a ventilator." 

"Thank God," Elliot replied. "Liv's got the warrants." 

"Let's go," Munch said, his determination evident. "Any idea on where he is?" He turned to Olivia, for it was obvious to all involved that matters involving Emma were her territory.   
Slipping into lead-investigator mode, Olivia nodded thoughtfully. "Chances are he's at work, establishing his alibi. Mark doesn't know that Emma was supposed to contact me," she explained as they headed out to the car, "so he probably thinks that we think Emma's still at work. That way, if he's at work, he can claim he's been there since he left this morning." Olivia worried she'd stopped making sense. 

"Where's he work?" Munch asked, climbing in the back of the sedan. 

"Kamisky, Baines and Charge, Esquires," Elliot supplied as he revved the engine and pulled out of the parking lot. "He's a paralegal." 

"Lawyers. I knew he was dirty," Munch replied. 

They pulled to a screeching halt in front of the high-rise, Elliot and Munch hot on Olivia's heels, and ten officers trailing behind them. They didn't need that much manpower to take one man into custody, and all of them knew that. They also knew that you never messed with family and got away with it. 

Elliot stopped the firm's secretary from impeding the investigation as Olivia brushed past them, looking for Mark's office. 

Throwing the door open more dramatically than technically necessary, Olivia strode past the stunned client to Mark's side. "Excuse me for interrupting," she apologized perfunctorily to the attorney, "but your assistant is under arrest. Mark Miller, I have a warrant for your arrest for the assault and battery of Emma Cabot this morning. Put your hands behind your back." Olivia stepped over to Mark, handcuffs dangling from one hand as her colleagues crowded around the door, making a powerful spectacle. 

"What the hell?" Mark raised his shoulder and fought momentarily against Olivia before she overpowered him and slapped the cuffs around his wrists. "Her name is Emma Miller, for one." He continued to scoff, looking at Munch and Stabler enjoying the hell out of him being arrested. "Olivia, this is me. What are you talking about, assault and battery?" 

"She's in the hospital, asshole," Olivia seethed through her teeth. "Your **wife** has two broken ribs and a concussion, and you're under arrest. Anything you say can and will be held against you in a court of law." Olivia Mirandized him with a flat voice, tightening the cuffs a little to watch Mark squirm. 

"What?" Mark stumbled as Olivia hauled him out into the hallway, and he fought momentarily against Elliot as the other detective placed him in a headlock.

"Stop resisting, Mark, before we add that to your rap sheet," Elliot growled.

"That's police brutality!" the secretary cried. 

"No," Munch muttered to himself, "that's justice." 

"Hey, Mark, you want a lawyer?" Olivia added as they dragged him out of the office. "Better holler for one now. Don't know when we can get you a phone." 

"You can't honestly think I did anything wrong, Olivia," Mark protested as Elliot shoved him in the back of a squad car. "Besides, Emma can't testify against me. As you so eloquently stated, she's my wife." 

Olivia snorted derisively. "You really should've gone to law school," she informed Mark, her arm resting on the door. "Emma can't be **forced** to testify against you. If she chooses to, you can't stop her." She slammed the door and thumped her hand on the trunk; the boys of the two-seven drove Mark to booking.   
  


* * *  
  


"Docket number 556014, people versus Mark Jason Miller, assault in the first degree, battery in the first degree, spousal abuse in the first degree." 

"Joseph Kamisky for the defense, Your Honor." 

"Adam Naughton representing the People." 

From her seat in the gallery, Alex kept her white knuckles in her lap; she wanted nothing more than to be prosecuting this case. But Petrovsky had warned her earlier in the day; she could request the warrants, but Alex was to be nowhere near the bar when the arraignment started. Alex heard the door behind her open and she looked up, grateful when Olivia's eyes met hers. 

Taking her seat silently, Olivia freed one of Alex's hands from her death grip and held it gently. 

Alex laced her fingers with Olivia's, her eyes never moving from Mark's back. 

"How does the defendant plead?" 

"Before entering a plea, Your Honor, the defense requests that Her Honor recuse herself, given the fact that she signed the warrants from the victim's sister, Assistant District Attorney Cabot." 

"I sign hundreds of warrants a week, Counselor. This one was no different. Motion denied. Plea?" 

"Not guilty," Mark replied strongly, and Alex could see his chin high in the air. 

"Bail, Mr. Naughton?" 

"Request remand, Your Honor." 

Kamisky was objecting before Petrovsky could even draw a breath to deny the request. "Your Honor, my client is a first time offender. Remand is ridiculous in this case." 

"I'm inclined to agree. I will hear bail amounts from the People." 

Naughton, a newer, more easily flustered ADA, finally threw out a bail amount. "Five hundred thousand.  Cash, Your Honor." 

Petrovsky beat Kamisky to the punch in denying the motion, sending Alex's head back in defeat. "That's excessive, Mr. Naughton, and you know it." 

"Your Honor, Emma Cabot Miller is lying in a hospital bed, bloody and bruised—" 

"Then why isn't there a charge of attempted murder?" Petrovsky shook her head. "On the charges in front of me, I'm ordering $2,000 bail, payable by cash or bond. Next case." 

Olivia swore under her breath. She caught Mark's eye as he turned to leave the courtroom. Her vicious glare warned him that if he set foot near Emma, he wouldn't live to regret it.

THE END


	8. Break

The door creaked softly in the semi-darkness and Olivia stopped, waiting for the noise to cease. When it had, she let the door swing closed with a tiny click. Letting out a tiny sigh of relief, Olivia hung her jacket on the coat rack and stepped around the couch, intending to sit and relax for a few minutes. The blonde curled up there caught her by surprise and she cleared her throat quietly. "Em?" 

Emma sat up, muting the already dulled television. "Hi," she said, clearing her throat after hearing how dusky her voice was. "Did you just get off?" 

"Yeah. I had to stay late and finish paperwork." She patted Emma's feet to scoot them off one side of the couch. Sinking down, Olivia stole half of the afghan covering Emma's legs for her own lap. "It's freezing in here. Don't the Cabots believe in heat?" 

"I don't," Emma kidded, reaching behind her and kicking the heating unit on. "Poor Allie's in there in her flannel pajamas, under three blankets and a down comforter. But she wouldn't argue with me when I told her it felt like Miami in here. I love being spoiled." She smiled weakly at Olivia, her teasing tone and fallen, bruised face testimony to the awakening she'd been forced to swallow. 

Smiling sympathetically, Olivia reached out and cupped Emma's cheek, before letting her hand fall away. "Still hurts, huh?" 

"For a while there, Alex and I had matching war wounds." Emma shrugged, looking out her sister's window momentarily. "The inside hurts more than the outside. But you knew that." 

"Yeah. Did I ever tell you about Jacob?" 

Emma shook her head slowly. "I don't think so." 

"Jacob was the love of my life - before Alex," Olivia teased with a wide grin. It faded, as she continued, "We were together for a long time, and I thought he was everything I ever wanted in a partner. He was thoughtful, gentle...well, you get the picture." The detective's features hardened into an icy mask. "Then one day, I woke up and he was gone. I figured he was out for a run, but he didn't come back for breakfast. He didn't come back at all." Olivia could barely raise her eyes to Emma's, allowing all the pain of that memory to rise to the surface. "He just picked up and left. I got a call three days later from his insurance agent, wanting to know where to send his refund check. He'd cancelled his life, car, renter's - everything. He just packed up and left. I still don't know why, or where he went, or if he's even still alive." Unshed angry tears floated in bourbon-colored pools. 

"Oh, my God." For all the anger and all the blame she'd felt towards Olivia over the past week, for all the time she'd spent convincing herself that if Olivia had just done her job, none of this would be happening now, Emma was compelled to scoot closer to Olivia and wrap a sturdy arm around the once impenetrable detective. "So you know what it's like to think you know someone and have them turn into a monster." 

"I really do." Olivia turned in Emma's arms and hugged the blonde as tight as she could without hurting her. "And I'm so sorry. I know you blame me, you have a perfect right to." Her voice was calm, not betraying the turmoil inside. 

"It's okay," Emma whispered, rubbing a soothing hand up and down Olivia's back, not unlike the movement her sister had perfected during many sleepless nights. "I've been talking with Alex a lot, and with that Huang guy. He's a trip and a half, you know?" Emma felt Olivia chuckle against her shoulder, and Emma leaned back. "I don't blame you. I mean, that was my initial reaction, to lash out at you and Allie; you were the ones destroying my perfect future. But you didn't plot to kidnap me, you know? There were things you could have done, yeah; but all of us have those things lingering in hindsight. What matters now is that you're doing all you can to keep me safe. And I really do appreciate that." 

Nodding in appreciation, Olivia squeezed Emma's hand in a familiar gesture of solidarity. "You're not half bad, for a kid," she teased. 

Emma pursed her lips and shrugged playfully. "I know." She rose from the couch, moving into her sister's tiny kitchen and preparing to make herself a cup of tea. "Do you want anything?" 

"Decaf if you would." 

"Sure." Emma fished around in Alex's cabinets and put Olivia's coffee on. "Did Alex tell you I'm filing for a civil restraining order in the morning?" 

"No, but I was hoping you would." Olivia followed Emma into the kitchen, swiping at her wet eyes. 

Emma nodded, handing Olivia the milk for her coffee. "I have to have a temporary one for a couple of weeks, and then we'll go back into court for the year-long one. I'm hoping he's in jail by then so he can't contest it, or the divorce petition." 

"Em...." Olivia slid her arms around Emma's waist gently and hugged her, well below her broken ribs so as not to cause more damage. "I'm really sorry you have to go through all this. I told Alex, I wish I could just...end it." 

Emma stopped her movements and covered Olivia's hand with hers briefly. "I know," she replied quietly. "I do, too." 

"Am I interrupting a moment?" 

Alex's dazed voice caused Emma to chuckle. "Yeah, Cabot, a real moment. I'm so broken-hearted that I'm stealing your girlfriend as my rebound guy." Emma looked back up at Olivia, with amused eyes for the first time in what seemed like ages. "No offense." 

"Some taken," Olivia scoffed, backing away with a mock-pout. "Who wouldn't want me as a rebound?" 

Alex smiled sleepily, adjusting the sleeves of her flannel pajamas. "I think I'm too tired to answer that diplomatically. I just heard banging and wanted to make sure everything was okay." 

Emma nodded sympathetically. "Sorry, Allie." 

"It's fine." Alex brushed her hand against Olivia's. "How are you?" 

"Good." Olivia slid her arm around Alex's waist. "I just got in late, and we were gonna have a drink together." She leaned over, pressing a kiss to the side of Alex's neck, bared by her mishap of a ponytail. "Sorry I haven't been around lately." 

Alex nodded, nuzzling Olivia's face with her cheek as she did so. "You forget I know you," she teased. "It's okay." She cleared her throat and offered a sleepy smile to the women in front of her. "I'll leave you to your drinks. I have a summation in the morning to dream about." 

"Night, Al," Emma said softly, lifting the kettle off the burner gingerly. 

"Hey, Em, you mind if I take a rain check on that drink?" Olivia apologized softly. "I...uhm..." She gestured toward the space Alex had left. "You know." 

Emma's grin lifted the twenty years she'd aged right off her chest. "Have fun." 

Laughing softly, Olivia shook her head and disappeared into the bedroom.   
  


* * *  
  


"I didn't see Olivia leave this morning," Emma commented, leaning gingerly against the door to her sister's room. 

Alex applied the last of her lipstick and ran the brush one last time through her hair before answering. "She was out by six-fifteen or so. I doubt you heard her, over your snoring symphony." 

Emma shook her head. "Again, with the alleged snoring." 

Alex stepped back and eyed her sister. "They could hear you in Hoboken."  Emma handed her sister a travel mug of coffee, and Alex took a grateful sip. "You'll call me at lunch?" 

"As always," Emma promised. "You hooked up the fax?" 

Alex nodded. "Your own personal office, in my living room." She gave her sister a quick kiss before heading out and securing the deadbolt behind her. Emma's broken ribs, while stabilized, still threatened to puncture a lung if she moved around too much, so traveling to work was out of the question. Emma, instead, spent her days sketching, faxing and watching 'The View'. 

Alex couldn't quite contain a shiver as she descended into the New York morning, and she pulled her wool coat a little tighter around her. She walked down the block to the nearest major intersection and tried to hail a cab, quite a task during rush hour on a Friday morning. She kept her hand continuously raised, even as she felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand up, giving voice to a tried and true cliché. Something was off, and she could feel it. She looked around her, but saw nothing. Finally, a cab screeched to a halt in front of her and she got in, still looking for anything out of the ordinary. 

The green eyes followed Alex as she climbed into the cab. He slid into the next cab, knowing her destination well. Going by his established routine, he got out of the cab a block away and followed Alex up to the front of the building, where he let her disappear inside. He wondered if she had seen him. _Not today,_ he decided. Perhaps tomorrow she'd spot him. He patted his pocket, where the note lay hidden. He'd better stop at the post office on the way back to the police station. He had a busy day planned, mustn't waste a minute. 

* * *  
  


"Mail call, Alex." Her assistant dropped a few envelopes on Alex's desk, and Alex offered a slight, distracted smile as she pursed her lips in thought, poring over her legal pad and summation. After a minute of staring at the page, she leaned back and grabbed her mail for a distraction. The first was an invitation to some law function; she'd have to think up another excuse to get out of that one. The second one, however, stopped her heart. 

_You think you control the sun, the moon, the stars. You forget she is my universe. I had the power to create her, and I  have the power to destroy her. One misstep, one false hope, one wrong move, and she will cry again. Only this time, it will be over you. _

Alex dropped the letter on her desk as if it burned her fingers, and her other hand reached immediately for the phone. "Em, are you all right?" 

Her sister's tone was surprised. "Yeah, I'm fine. Why?" 

"No reason. Just checking in. I'll see you later, okay?" Alex hung up the receiver and called her assistant back into the office. "Michelle, I need two sandwich bags, and latex gloves." At Michelle's puzzled glance, Alex shook her head sharply. "Do it." 

Michelle returned with the requested items shortly after, and handed them to a pale Alex. The ADA bounded out of the office, heading straight for the SVU squad room. She collected herself enough to nod good morning to Fin, but set her sights on Olivia. 

Glancing up, Olivia stood and met Alex halfway through the room. "What'd he do?" 

Wordlessly, Alex held out the two plastic bags. "Mail call, this morning. Postmarked two days ago." 

"Shit." Olivia glanced them over, calling for Elliot as she did. Handing the items over, she said, "Take 'em to trace for me. I've gotta get back to Alex's place." 

"Liv, Emma's got a twenty-four hour guard," Elliot protested. "Mark hasn't made a move on her in nearly a week; we have other cases that need our attention." 

"He's right," Alex agreed quietly. "I doubt you'll find anything on there, anyway. He's got that part of his MO down pat. I already checked in with Emma; she's fine. I just wanted to pass it along to you." 

Sighing, Olivia nodded as Elliot headed out to the CSU's offices. "I wish I could do more. And I really wish I had someplace else for Emma to stay, someplace Mark didn't know about." 

"Does he know where you live?" Alex asked. "We can get her out of the building through the parking garage, set up a decoy or two to confuse him." 

Olivia nodded slowly. "Good idea. Munch!" 

Eagerly looking up from crime scene photos, Munch adjusted his eyeglasses. "You rang?" 

"Emma needs an escort from Alex's apartment to mine. Mark seems to be growing a set." 

"You got it." Munch rose from his seat and headed out immediately, while Alex watched, amused but touched. She turned back to Olivia and offered a small smile. "You understand that having her crash at your place qualifies you for sainthood." 

"Nah, just paying my dues." The guilt was still haunting Olivia, and it would continue to. 

Alex squeezed her hand discreetly and then motioned back outside. "I have to get back. I'll call Em and let her know Munch is on his way. Do you want me to stop by after work?" 

"Yeah. I'm sure Emma'd love to see you." Olivia smiled, releasing Alex's hand. "Whose turn for dinner?" 

"Mine, I think. Preferences?" Even in the darkest of times, they could still rely on their easy camaraderie to guide them. 

"Chinese or KFC," Olivia opted. "I'm gonna get on Trace's ass while Munch is with Emma." 

"Okay." Alex headed back to her office, dialing Emma as she went, informing her sister of the change of plans. 

* * *

Elliot looked up from next to the lab tech as Olivia entered the sterile space. "Ken here was going to enlighten us about your mysterious message." 

Ken offered a perfect smile; many of the techs had a little thing for Detective Benson. "Your perp slipped up," he informed proudly. 

"Really?" Olivia didn't even attempt to flirt; her mind was too wrapped up in catching Mark in the act, to the exclusion of even her active cases. 

"Underside of the flap, we've got at least a three-point match. I'm using ninhydrine to see if I can flush out more." 

"Super glue? Welcome to the '70s, Ken," Elliot joked. 

Ken just shook his head. "If it works, it works. There's still at least twenty minutes left on the sample before the dye will attach. You want me to call you when it's done?" 

"Yeah." Olivia reached for a scrap of paper and scribbled her cell number. "The second you get anything else." 

"You want me to run IAFIS before or after I call you?" Ken asked, pocketing the paper. 

"Before. Gimme a name, Ken." Olivia flashed him a smile. "Good work," she added, rubbing his shoulder before heading out. 

True to his word, Ken called twenty minutes and fifteen seconds later. "Got a hit. Michael William Bradley, formerly of Hartford, Connecticut, has a five point match to the fingerprint I pulled from your envelope." 

Olivia dropped her sandwich as one eyebrow went up in surprise. "Michael Bradley? Any aliases?" she asked immediately. 

"Not according to the system, but that doesn't mean he doesn't have any on file. When they switched to IAIFIS from AIFIS, they did so without transferring all the nooks and crannies of the old system. So I'd call Hartford PD and see where you can get with them." 

"Ken, you're a gem. Remind me to recommend you for a raise." Olivia hung up and was on the phone with the Hartford police in moments. 

"Hartford PD Dispatch. How may I direct your call?" 

"Records, please." Olivia took a hurried bite of her sandwich while on hold. 

"One moment." There was a series of clicks, and a voice came on the line. "Records, this is Sherry. How may I help you?" 

Olivia swallowed quickly. "Hi, Sherry. This is Detective Benson with the one-six up in Manhattan. How ya doin'?" 

"Fine, Detective. How are you today?" 

"Pretty good. Listen, I've got a perp in a case up here, and we think he might match to some cases that aren't in the system yet. Can you run a manual search for any aliases for a Michael William Bradley?" 

"Sure thing, Detective. Hold on one second." Sherry took down Olivia's badge number and started scrolling through the files. "It's going to take a while; it's a pretty common name. Do you have an associated DOB?" 

"I can, if you hold on one sec." Olivia gestured wildly toward Elliot, whispering to him to get Emma on the line and find out Mark's date of birth. 

"Hello?" Emma's answer was wary. 

"Em, it's Elliot. Listen, we're doing some background work; what's Mark's birthday?" 

"May fifteenth, seventy-one." 

Elliot passed the information immediately onto Olivia, who relayed it to Sherry. "Okay, Detective...aha! Here it is. Michael William Bradley, 5/15/71...quite a busy little bugger. Looks like he was busted on a variety of charges up here in '97, including possession of child pornography, and possession of marijuana with intent to distribute. He was put in the system on the kiddie porn charge." Sherry clicked down the page before speaking again. "Aliases include Joseph Hanson, Nathaniel Grayson and Mark Miller." 

"Sherry," Olivia breathed a sigh of relief, her second within fifteen minutes, "that's fantastic. Can you e-mail me a copy of everything you have on him?" 

"Sure thing." Sherry took down Olivia's e-mail address and fax numbers before asking, "Is there anything else you need, Detective Benson?" 

"If you have anything else - his employment history, public records, anything at all - those'd be great." 

"I'll see what I can find. If you need anything else, I'll attach the number for the public records hall here in Hartford. They should be able to help, too. Good luck, Detective." 

"Thanks again." Olivia hung up and grinned at Elliot. "The print matches one of Mark's aliases. Unfortunately, the TRO was to prevent him from stalking Emma." Her grin faded and she frowned thoughtfully. "I didn't think he'd start watching Alex. Kid's smart." 

"We'll put a car on her, too," Elliot replied, picking up his extension and dialing the uniforms. "They're gonna love us upstairs; first, baby-sitting duty for the ADA's kid sister, and now the ADA. You gonna call Alex?" 

Olivia nearly grinned at Elliot's assumption. It was fair, though, she supposed; she had been the Cabots' point-of-contact regarding Emma's case since the beginning. As far as Elliot knew, she still was. Picking up the phone, Olivia had to remind herself to dial her own number, not Alex's. She heard the recording and made a mental note to change the message when she got home. "Emma? Alex? It's me. I have good news." 

Emma picked up the phone, nearly falling over her suitcase in the process. She shushed Munch's subtle laughter and pressed the 'talk' button. "You got me Bon Jovi tickets?" 

"Better. I got one of Mark's prints off the note he sent Alex this morning." 

"The note he..." Emma turned and looked at Munch, who was admiring Olivia's picture window view of a building. "What are you talking about?" 

"The note," Olivia repeated. "The one..." The detective trailed off, regaining her balance. "Alex didn't tell you?" 

"No," Emma replied, devoid of emotion. "She left that part out." She paused, clenching her fists. Alex had promised not to keep anything from her; apparently, Emma now had to add her own sister to the list of betrayers in her midst. "So what does that mean, exactly?" she finally asked, her voice tiny in her ears. 

Lowering her voice, Olivia replied, "It means Mark's switched his focus from you to her. We have another patrol car on the way to her office now. You'll both have twenty-four hour police escorts until he's locked up. Don't worry, okay." It was an order; Olivia's voice was firm and confident. "I won't let anything happen to either of you." 

"Yup." Emma's reply was terse and hurt. "I'll see you later, okay?" 

"Emma, do me a favor?" Olivia interceded quickly. 

"Yeah?" Emma rubbed the bridge of her nose, her fingers aching as she unclenched them from around each other. 

"Don't blame your sister. She's just trying to keep you safe - it's all she knows how to do." 

Emma smiled thinly. "Thanks. See you later." She disconnected before Olivia could lecture her again. She put the cordless back in its cradle and watched Munch turn away from the window. "Undercover car's in place," he said lightly, crossing the living room to place a hand on Emma's shoulder. "You'll be safe. I promise." 

"Thanks, John," Emma replied with a sigh. 

"Do you need anything before I head back?" Munch asked, pulling on his coat. 

"Other than a stiff drink and a long bath, I'm good. Thanks." 

"Keep your chin up," Munch offered as he shut the door behind him. "And lock yourself in!" 

Emma chuckled, but turned the deadbolt as ordered. She sat on Olivia's plush couch, pulling her feet underneath her legs. It had been a hellish few weeks - truth be told, it had been a hellish lifetime. And it didn't seem inclined to end anytime soon.   
  


* * *  
  


Alex arched back in her chair, the cracking and popping of the tendons an indication it was time to call it a day. She returned several of her file folders to their respective cabinets, pausing to run her fingers over a picture of herself and Emma, taken on her sister's wedding day. She had been so happy then, and it broke Alex's heart each time she saw a new wrinkle in the porcelain of her sister's skin, each flaw indicating the passage of time and lost battles. She took a deep breath, one that was smothered in part by the sharp closing of the filing cabinet drawer. She ordered herself to suck it up; it would all be over soon. Alex quickly gathered her things and hit the lights to her office on her way out. Olivia had called and said a car would be waiting for her. Alex had argued she didn't need one, but after the stern ADA got an even sterner talking to by her 'won't take no shit from anyone' girlfriend, Alex had relented. _I really need to stop dating cops._

Struck by the quiet in the building around her, Alex stepped towards the curb, looking for her ride home. 

"Alexandra," came the hissed whisper from the direction of the bushes. "I've missed your smiling face, sweetheart." 

Alex turned so quickly that her attaché - cell phone inside - fell several feet away. Her heart leapt into her throat, and her pulse raced with adrenaline-laced fear. "You stay away from me, you son of a bitch." 

"Keep dreaming," Mark laughed sardonically. He took a menacing step closer, his breath mingling with Alex's in the chilly evening air. "You're so cute, just like Emma...all self-righteous, calling me 'evil'. You don't stand a **chance**." 

"I could put you down where you stand," Alex replied, her stony facade never betraying her racing heart. "There are cops crawling all over this place. You can't touch me. Or Emma." 

Mark leaned forward and poked Alex's shoulder with his finger, breaking out into peals of hysterical laughter. 

Much like she had done to her stepfather, Alex wrapped her fingers around Mark's. In a move that would make Olivia proud, she bent his arm behind his back so that they stood, stomachs touching, glaring eyes mixing in a dance of anger and sociopathic indifference, his fingers and wrist one mere turn away from being broken. 

Emitting a strangled gasp, Mark's free hand shot out and his fingers curled around Alex's throat. "Lemme go, you fucking cunt!" 

Alex's reflex reaction to oxygen deprivation was to squeeze his arm tighter, and flail her free arm into his sternum. "Stay...away..." she ordered in a strangled hiss. 

"From Emma?" Mark murmured wickedly, around the pain of Alex's grip. He tightened his hand around her neck. "I don't think so, honey. She and I were meant to be. Don't you know how long I've been here, protecting her from all of you?" Mark shook his head in slow disbelief. "I'm the only one who really loves her." 

Alex moved her hand and latched on to Mark's index finger, pulling it backwards. She used his slight movement backwards as impetus to push away from him, loosening his grip on her neck. "You call this loving her? Torturing her? Ruining her life?" 

"She belongs to me!" Mark screamed, squeezing Alex's neck once more for good measure. 

"Let her go!" Three feet behind Mark, Olivia's revolver was trained steadily on his head. "Let her go or I swear to God I'll blow your fucking head off," she cried, not caring who heard. 

Mark's grip tightened; infuriated, Alex was now fighting to keep standing, her eyes fluttering. Mark was a big man; it was almost ironic that she hadn't realized just how strong he was. His hand clenched fully around her throat, and she could almost feel the bruises and marks made by his fingers burning her skin. Somewhere, in the back of her mind, she heard Olivia's voice, but she wasn't entirely sure it wasn't just the oxygen deprivation. 

"Let her **go**," Olivia demanded. 

Mark released his grip and Alex crumpled to the ground. Turning to face the irate detective, he grinned. "She started it. But since she **is** my sister-in-law, I won't be pressing charges." 

The battle raged within Olivia for a moment - should she arrest him or not? Since no real damage had apparently been done, she had no choice. Darting past Mark, Olivia sank to the ground and cradled Alex against her. 

Alex cleared her throat, rubbing it gently for a minute. She watched Mark saunter into the night and looked up at Olivia. "Where's he going?" 

"Probably to slaughter some animals," Olivia answered, running a hand over Alex's cheek. "You wanna press charges? I'll go 'cuff him." 

"Wouldn't do any good," Alex said, fighting to get to her knees. "I antagonized him, inflicted the first real bodily injury. So unless you want to bail me out - again - we'll ignore it. Where were you?" 

"I was coming to see you," Olivia said, holding Alex down gently. "Will you just sit and relax a minute?" the detective grumbled. "You were out for a little bit, take it easy." 

"I'm fine," Alex argued, but sat back down on the pavement. "I feel like an idiot. I should have kept walking, should've kept looking for the undercovers." 

"Who I'm going to kill, by the way," Olivia added. She fingered the bruises on Alex's neck tenderly, commenting, "This'll be the second time in as many weeks that you'll be visiting the ER. You Cabot girls have some luck, don'tcha?" 

"Nothing's broken. No ER," Alex replied succinctly. "I want to get to Emma. Besides," she said, flashing her baby blues to the only person left in the world that her coy charm actually worked on, "you can take care of me just fine, right?" 

"Oh, Christ." Olivia rolled her eyes. "Why does that slow-Southern-drawl thing still work on me? You'd think," she grumbled, climbing to her feet and reaching out to help Alex up, "that after two plus years of dating, not to mention the year we spent not talking, I'd be immune to those gorgeous blue eyes." 

Alex shrugged, wiping the city grime off her pants. "Many have tried, few have succeeded. Thanks for rescuing me, Detective Benson," she teased, not letting go of Olivia's hand. 

Olivia smiled genuinely. "Don't make me do it again," she warned. 

Alex raised an eyebrow. "I'll do my best." She walked over to her attaché and slung it over her shoulder, her voice still raspy after the beating it had endured. "Have you been to see Emma yet?" 

"No. I wanted to talk to you before you went over there, that's why I was here." Olivia walked Alex to the corner, her hand on one of the attorney's elbows, guiding her. "Emma knows about the note." 

"Shit," Alex said with a sigh. "I didn't want to scare her," she offered in explanation. "Is she pissed?" 

"Extremely. I'd bring body armor and maybe a guard." 

"That's why I have you, right?" Alex joked, continuing to rub her throat. "I'd say I can't wait until this is over, but..." She shook her head, catching Olivia's eye in the dusky midtown evening. "I don't think he's ever going to stop." 

"Unfortunately, I agree." Olivia eyed her girlfriend carefully. "What did he say to you, Alex? What exactly happened?" 

"He taunted me for a minute, came out from behind those bushes," she turned and pointed to the incidental area, "and then he said he was the only one who really loved her, that he had been doing it forever. He touched me on the shoulder, and then I did one of the self-defense moves you taught me, and he used his free hand to give me this lovely purple and green turtleneck." 

"Mark said he'd loved Emma forever?" 

Alex nodded, watching Olivia's eyes as her brain worked overtime. "Yeah, why?" 

"Just wondering." Olivia's gaze was off in the distance as an idea began to circulate in her brain. "Okay," she said, leaning over to hug Alex quickly. "Be careful." 

Alex shrugged within Olivia's embrace. "No other choice." They separated, Alex pulling her coat more tightly around her. "Are you heading home?" 

"Not for a few more hours. I have some … stuff to research." There was just the slightest pause as Olivia hid the truth from Alex once again. Hailing a cab, the detective sent her girlfriend on her way and headed back to the station house to do a little legwork. Something had been bothering her since she'd called Hartford that morning, and Mark's comment to Alex had brought it to the surface. 

Olivia tried to run through the facts in order. Mark grew up in Connecticut – he'd told Emma as much, and she'd relayed that to Olivia. The fact that he had a string of aliases there wasn't surprising, considering that. What was it about Connecticut that had a connection to Emma's kidnapping two years ago? _Besides the fact that Peter Kelleher was born, raised and resided in __Bridgeport__?__ Shit!_ Olivia doubled her pace, rocketing up the stairs in her haste to get to her desk. Dialing hastily, she prayed Sherry was a workaholic. 

"Records. Sherry speaking, how may I help you?" She had to be the only records clerk on the East Coast that willing to help colleagues. 

Olivia sighed gratefully. "Sherry, it's Detective Benson from Manhattan, again. I'm glad you're still there. I don't have your research in front of me; can you tell me the exact dates Michael Bradley, alias Mark Miller, was arrested in Hartford?" 

"Sure, Detective. One moment, please." Sherry clicked around her records program, and hunted through the names until she found Michael's history. "He has a juvy record, Detective, from the late '80s, but I don't have any specific dates on that. His other charges stem from August 23rd, 1997." 

"'97?" Olivia repeated, doing the mental math. If Emma was twenty-eight, that meant she'd gotten her B.A. in about '96... "August of '97?" she said again. 

"That's what the records indicate," Sherry confirmed. 

"Thanks again, Sherry." Olivia hung up with a sigh, catching Elliot's raised eyebrow out of the corner of her eye. 

"What's up?" Elliot happily hung up the phone; explaining to Kath he was going to be late for the fourth night in a row was not going over well. 

"Mark Miller," Olivia said, tossing the unearthed file to her partner. "He's got a record in Hartford from 1997. According to our interviews from two years ago, Mark said Emma dumped him the summer of that same year. Emma says it was because he was, quote, 'creeping her out'." Olivia's eyebrow went up, matching Elliot's. "All this time, we've been assuming Mark **just** started harassing Emma. What's to say he didn't start five years ago?" 

Elliot leafed quickly through the file, nodding as Olivia's theory sank in. "Do you think there are more letters somewhere?" 

"I hadn't thought about it, but probably. She woulda been living with Jordan, and then Jess, about the time she broke up with Mark. I'll give them both a call." Olivia reached for the phone, her heart sinking with the realization that this wasn't as simple as they'd all hoped. 

* * *

"I'm sorry," Jess said again. "I had no idea..." 

"It's not your fault," Olivia assured her. It was becoming something of a mantra lately. "You thought they were from her stepdad, you were trying to protect Emma. I just think everyone keeps forgetting that she's a grownup." The detective scribbled a note to herself and returned her attention to Jess. "Did you save the letters?" she asked, hoping against hope. 

Jess nodded to herself. "Yeah," she said aloud. "I thought...I thought if he tried anything, I could, like, blackmail him to stay away from her. I don't know what I was thinking." 

"Listen, Jess, I need those letters as soon as possible. Can you get here tomorrow?" Olivia practically pleaded. 

"First thing." She copied down the address the detective rattled off and hung up. 

The phone rang as soon as she dropped it into the cradle. Olivia answered tiredly, "Benson." 

"Detective Benson, it's Sherry from Hartford PD Records. I've been doing some digging on Michael Bradley, and I found a weird link between his record in Hartford and a Mike Bradley in Atlanta. I figured I'd pass it on, in case you were interested." 

"I'm very interested," Olivia affirmed. 

"I don't have anything to confirm it's him except twenty years of cross-referencing experience," Sherry warned, "but this was something that settled in my gut. Anyway, your Michael Bradley in Hartford did a suspended sentence of a year. There's no record of him in Hartford past August of '98. Well, in September of '98, Mike Bradley turned up in Atlanta and did a student teaching gig in a pre-law course at Atlanta Community College. He stayed there until 2000." 

"Atlanta...holy Christ." Olivia dropped her pen in disbelief. "Seriously, I think I'm gonna give my job up to you and the guys in CSU. You're doing it a hell of a lot better than I am." 

Sherry laughed, its echo carrying through the empty hallways of the basement of Hartford PD. "Detective Benson, when you've been at this as long as I have, you can tell which cops really care and which are millimeters away from an IAB investigation. You sound like you care, and if you care, then I'll care. Besides, you said thank you. That's a rarity in my line of work." 

"Double thank you, and my promises for a batch of my girlfriend's sister's chocolate chip cookies at Christmas." Olivia beamed into the phone. "She makes them so chewy, you'd kill your own mother for one." 

Sherry started at the girlfriend reference, but said nothing. "My address is on the fax I sent you yesterday, Detective. And tell her that I like double chips in my cookies." 

"You've got it." Olivia hung up and turned to Elliot, unaware of her slip. "Hey, Elliot, pop quiz. If you're a stalker and you get dumped by your victim, where do you go?" 

"Other than to the loony bin?" Elliot shook his head. "Most stalkers, when slighted, lash out violently. You know that." 

Olivia nodded, waving one hand dismissively. "Yeah, but maybe you're not crazy enough yet. Maybe you just think you're in love and you want to be surrounded by memories of her. Maybe you also have a bachelor's in Criminal Justice and pre-law," she spoon-fed him clues, a grin on her face to light the room. She had Mark by the short hairs. 

"You go somewhere she's been." Elliot nodded, comprehension setting in. "So we know he stayed in Hartford and Bridgeport after he and Emma split up in college?" 

"And once he'd acquired a record there, he moved on down to Atlanta. You know who else is in Atlanta?" 

"Caroline. Damn." Elliot leaned back in his chair, whistling lowly. He watched Olivia's eyes and her pencil rolling between her fingers, sure signs she had a theory. "You think he hooked up with Caroline in Atlanta, got more dirt on Emma, and then came back here?" 

Nodding, Olivia echoed, "Caroline **fucking** Cabot, the bane of Alex's existence - and Emma's," she added, nearly as an afterthought. "I think she probably gave him the dish on everything that Emma hadn't told him about their family history, whether she meant to or not." 

Elliot swiped the file off Olivia's desk and thumbed through, looking for the popular Miss Cabot-Whitney. "Should we give her a call?" 

"That's all up to you." Olivia glanced up at the clock on the wall. "The girls are expecting me for dinner." She grinned at her partner, her heart about three tons lighter. 

"We're gonna nail him, Elliot."   
  


* * *  
  


Judge Lena Petrovsky had put up with a lot in her ten years on the bench, and she had come to expect the parties arguing in her court to do just about anything. Since Alexandra Cabot had started arguing in front of her more than two years earlier, Petrovsky knew to expect the veteran attorney to be at least ten minutes early. Now that the ADA was running thirty minutes late, Lena's patience had worn thin. "Bailiff," she barked, "please call ADA Cabot's office and find out when she's going to grace us with her presence. Until then, we are in recess." She banged her gavel and retreated to chambers, awaiting the blonde's check for contempt. 

She wouldn't get it. 

Michelle flipped through Alex's Rolodex, quickly finding the name she needed. She dialed the 16th precinct, hoping the detective would be in, and not out in the field. 

"Benson," she answered on the fourth ring. 

"Detective Benson, this is Michelle Aronson. I'm ADA Cabot's assistant." 

"Hi, Michelle. What can I do for you?" Olivia flipped through her schedule, wondering why Alex couldn't just ask her to lunch herself. 

"Have you seen the ADA today?" Michelle asked worriedly, already knowing the answer. 

Fear shot through Olivia's heart before her brain caught up. "No..." she replied slowly. "She didn't come in?" 

"I'm afraid not. She was nearly forty minutes late for court before Judge Petrovsky called us. Normally, Alex goes straight there when she has early morning arraignments..." The young paralegal's voice trembled. "I called her super, and he went up to her apartment. He said the door was busted in..." 

Olivia's voice trembled as she acknowledged the information. Dropping the phone as if scalded, Olivia squeezed her eyes shut for a moment. This wasn't happening; it wasn't. "Captain!" she shouted, opening her eyes and striding across the squad room. 

Cragen opened his door quickly, happy to disconnect with OPP prematurely. He saw the look on Olivia's face, and his heart became irregular momentarily. That look could only mean one thing. "Is it Emma?" 

"No, Alex." Olivia's heart was pounding so hard she thought it would fly out of her chest at any moment. "She's missing. She didn't show up for work this morning and the super found her apartment busted open." 

Cragen had to take a step back and at least thirty seconds to comprehend what Olivia said. "I'll go with you." He didn't bother to go back into his office to grab his coat, just followed Olivia out of the building as fast as his legs could carry him. He would later remember telling Munch to find out where Mark was, but in that instant, all he knew was they had to get to Alex. 

They borrowed a cruiser and sped the entire way to Alex's apartment, lights flashing and sirens blaring. Olivia was silent, unable to understand what had happened. She prayed it was just a coincidence; the uniformed police had been outside Alex's door every second she was there for the past three weeks. _How could - no. It couldn't have._ Olivia couldn't reconcile herself to the possibility. 

Cragen nearly jumped the curb when parking the car, and immediately flashed his badge to the officers manning the yellow tape that now surrounded Alex's building. "Cragen, Special Victims. Who's in charge here?" The uniformed officer pointed to a man in a long beige trench coat. Without preamble, Cragen and Olivia ducked under the crime scene tape and made their way double-time to the detective. 

"Cragen, Special Victims." 

"Craig Schiller, two-five. What's Special Victims doing out here?" 

"You're looking for ADA Alexandra Cabot, right?" At Schiller's affirming nod, Cragen continued. "She's our ADA, and a personal friend. What've you got?" 

"Super found the door in splinters, a little blood spatter and a hypodermic needle. We're sending it to the lab now; first guess is it's some kind of depressant." Schiller paused, looking at Olivia. "You wouldn't happen to be Benson, would you?" 

"Yeah," Olivia replied immediately, "Why?" 

Schiller motioned to one of the CSU technicians numbering the bags of evidence his colleagues brought down. He handed Olivia a red and white plastic bag stamped 'Evidence'. "We found this tacked on the remainder of the doorframe." 

_Detective Benson, _

_Maybe you'll get it right this time. Wouldn't want all this bloodshed wasted._

Olivia's hand started shaking and she thrust the evidence bag back at Schiller. "We have to call Huang." Her voice was high and tight, foreign to her own ears. "We have to get this son of a bitch, Cap. I can't—" She cut herself off, striding to the car; her breath caught in her throat, and Olivia's chest ached with the effort to get air. 

Cragen handed Schiller his card. "You need to keep us in the loop about this; no pissing on territory or any shit like that, you got it? Your first suspect should be Mark Miller. He's Alex's brother-in-law, and he assaulted her a few days ago. Find him, and you find Alex. My squad will assist you in whatever way necessary. Are we clear?" 

"Crystal," Schiller replied, pocketing the business card. "I'll let you know if we track down Miller." 

"When you track down Miller," Cragen warned. "When." He turned on his heel and retreated to the squad car, pausing in the open passenger's side. "You all right?" 

Olivia shook her head mutely. "I have to be," she contradicted herself. "Let's go."   
  


* * *  
  


"I hate it when he does that," Munch muttered, watching as Dr. Huang paced in front of the event board they'd created, linking Emma and Alex's cases. Schiller had called with an update from Alex's apartment, informing them that the undercover officers had been in front of the building when Alex was taken. CSU found a jimmied window leading into the basement of the building; Mark had ridden the elevator up to her apartment without ever being detected. He either hit or drugged her, and then took her out the back through a door he'd left propped open. Teams had already been sent to comb the waterfront, and Huang was trying to make heads or tails of the circumstances, just as they all were. 

"He was expecting Emma to be there," the psychologist finally said, turning to Olivia. "Only Emma, you, Alex and the other cops knew you'd moved her, and they all knew Mark was to be arrested on sight if he went near Emma." 

Her eyes frantic and pleading with him to make sense of it all, Olivia nodded. "Did he mistake Alex for Emma?" 

"No. I think he was expecting Emma to be there, and when she wasn't, that infuriated him more. He took the next best thing." Huang turned back to the event board and said nothing for a minute, before Cragen prompted him. "What aren't you saying, Doc?" 

Huang sighed quietly, almost silently, before turning back to the group of detectives. "He's escalating, past the point of mania. He's sociopathic at the very least, and he's completely fixated on Emma. Now that he's lost her, again, by taking Alex instead, he's showing us that he's past his breaking point." He held up the legal pad Olivia had scribbled the contents of the day's note on. "This isn't taunting anymore. It's threatening. He's going to kill Alex by the end of the day." 

Swallowing the bile that rose in her throat, Olivia rubbed the back of her neck with one hand. "Where'd he take her?" 

"He's going to want something accessible, but not something obvious. He's manic, but he hasn't reached the distinguishable psychotic break yet. I'd say check out some of Emma's old haunts; schools, clubs, libraries, anything that reminds him of her. He's not just taunting you, Olivia. He's also trying to bring Emma back into this." 

Something in Olivia snapped and her eyes grew unfocused. "He wants us all dead before it's over," she surmised. 

Huang nodded. "Better you than him." 

Cragen turned away from the pictures of the two sisters in disgust. "All right, let's think. Emma used to live near NYU and went to school there." 

"We'll go check out her old place," Munch volunteered, pulling Fin out of his chair. 

"She also designs restaurants," Cragen continued, thinking back to their brief conversations over the past few weeks. 

"Huang," Olivia asked, seeming to come back to the conversation, "would a burnt-out nightclub fall in his choice of venue?" 

"If Emma designed it, yeah." 

"What if she was going to redesign it?" Cragen asked, following Olivia's train of thought. 

"Definitely," Huang agreed. 

"Fifty-seventh and Broadway," Olivia directed Elliot. "You and me." She glanced back at Cragen. "That okay, Cap?" she asked, as an afterthought. 

"Go," Cragen ordered, itching to get back out there and search. "Keep me informed." 

As Benson and Stabler headed out of the squad room, Huang called softly after Olivia. It was obvious to him that the detective had more at stake in this than she was letting on. 

Turning, Olivia braced herself for his speech; they were never Hallmark cards. 

"She's going to be beaten very severely," Huang warned quietly. "He's got a rage towards her and towards Emma, and she's going to get all of it, not just the brunt of it. He'll probably have raped her, and will leave her naked. This is, of course, if she's still alive. I can't possibly prepare you for all of the possibilities you might face, but just remember this as a certainty: when you throw up, do it away from the crime scene." 

Feeling her hands start to shake, Olivia feared she might vomit right there. It was hard enough seeing a stranger in the position the profiler had described, but the image of her best friend and confidante, her lover, brutalized in that fashion, was almost too much for the sex crimes detective to handle. Almost. "Thanks," she murmured. "When we find her...I'll owe you." 

Huang shook his head. "I want you to promise me you'll come and talk to me once this is all settled. Like after the Guan case...you'll need to talk." Huang nodded once, succinctly, before gesturing to the waiting Elliot. "Go find her."   
  


* * *  
  


Alex fought against the sand and fog, fought against the weight lying on her chest. She could see the surface, she was fighting against the undercurrent just to have her head break against the waves. She didn't know what she would see when she came to; she thought it had to be better than the hazy confusion she was wafting through now. 

She was wrong. 

Alex moaned, and turned her head, finding it almost impossible to do so. As soon as the slightest noise escaped her throat, she felt a sharp pang against her head, and another, then another. She whimpered again, and then received more blows. She felt something move inside her, like a rat. She couldn't open both eyes; why couldn't she open both? Alex wasn't sure. Instead, her right eye opened and she saw a big, black shadow looming over her. He was smiling; there was a large half-moon of white in her visual space. The moon was talking, although she really couldn't hear what he was saying. She kept fighting as best she could, though her limbs were made of stone. He kept moving up and down, inside and outside, and she kept whimpering, until her voice drifted back underneath the waves. 

"Wake up!" Mark yelled at her, landing a resonant blow against Alex's already-red cheek. 

The cry stirred her from her imposed slumber, and she opened her comparably good eye again. "Please..." she managed. 

"Please what, **bitch**?" Mark spat. "'Please stop hitting me?' 'Please stop fucking me?'" he mocked her higher-pitched voice. "You've earned it." He leaned back, his pants hanging open and grinned as his fist cracked off Alex's jaw. 

She couldn't manage a reply, and fell more limp under the weight of his angry body. "For Emma..." She tried again after a moment, tried to regain her quickly dissipating strength. 

With every weak struggle Alex gave beneath him, Mark felt his heart quicken and his pulse race. "Oh, don't you worry, little lady, my wife's gonna get her comeuppance right along with her impudent big sister." He sat back on his heels and admired his handiwork. Alex lay on a soiled mattress, naked from the waist down, her face a mess of dried blood and her legs caked in urine - his. She'd fought him much too hard and he'd had to show the prissy little ADA who was boss. 

Mark grabbed her by the shoulders and wrested Alex from the mattress violently. "Alexandra!" he screamed, safe in the knowledge that no one would hear him from so deep within the gutted building. "Get your ass up, now!" Her head lolled back and Mark threw her limp body down in disgust. "Weak little cunt." Frustrated, he ripped her shirt open, baring Alex entirely to the elements in the decrepit building. 

He stood up and brushed off his knees, zipping up his pants quickly. _This is a good thing,_ he decided. _Now I have time to run my errands while she sleeps it off. He strode out of the building, clicking the padlock into place. Hailing a cab, Mark told the driver, "Fifty-second and Lexington."   
  


* * *  
  


Olivia finally thought to call Emma as they were flying through the streets on the way to the club. "Emma!" she barked into her answering machine. "It's Olivia, pick up **now**!" 

Emma leapt off the couch, ripped out from a wonderful dream involving Michael Vartan and chocolate-covered strawberries. She heard Olivia order her to pick up the phone a second time, and she dove for the receiver, nearly falling off the couch in the process. "Wha? What is it?" she asked, breathless and sleepy. 

"Emma, Alex was kidnapped." 

"What?" Emma cried, pushing unruly strands of blonde out of her eyes. "Oh, God. Is she all right? Where is she?" 

Olivia tried to fight her own panic. "We think she's at Neon Lights, you need to get out immediately. Mark snatched Alex out of her apartment with the uniforms out front. You need to get out right now, go downstairs and climb into one of the cop cars. Sit in the officer's fucking lap if you have to, I don't care. Just get somewhere safe," Olivia ordered her. "He's gonna come for you after—" She couldn't finish the thought. 

"Okay," Emma replied immediately, searching for her shoes. "I'll get out of here now." 

"Good. I'll call you on your cell as soon as we know anything." Olivia hung up, her shoulders lightened immeasurably. Alex and Emma were the two most important people in her life, and the thought of both of them being in danger threatened to shut her down.

As her finger clicked the button and turned Olivia's voice into silence, Emma stood, in the middle of the detective's apartment, consumed with a quiet rage and a fierce determination. She pulled on her coat and shoes, fishing in her purse for her tiny cell phone. As she held it in the palm of her hand, the calm leeched into an eerie smile. She pressed speed dial one, and waited two rings before speaking softly. "Mark, honey, it's me. I want to talk to you. Can you meet me at home? Great." She disconnected and strode out of the apartment, ready for whatever came next.

THE END


	9. Black

Memories flooded Olivia's overwhelmed mind, the sirens drowned out by Emma's laughter echoing in the empty halls of her memory. She thought back to three months before, sitting on the couch.  Her arm around Alex, the blonde's head resting on her shoulder, they had watched Emma, with the help of Jose Cuervo, do her rendition of 'The Way We Were'. Staring through the windshield, Olivia had to force the what-ifs out of her mind. Wondering what she'd do if Alex died just brought the nausea back. 

Their first Christmas together…Olivia had to grin inwardly. Alex had stood on that freezing balcony with her for forty-five minutes, in nothing but a flimsy black dress and Olivia's velvet jacket; hardly a match for a New York December night, but the stubborn ADA wouldn't budge. That steel will would serve her well in the fight against…once again, Olivia's thoughts trailed off. Huang had planted an image in her mind that refused to yield. _"She's going to be beaten very severely… He'll probably have raped her, and will leave her naked. This is, of course, if she's still alive." If she's still alive._ The words haunted the detective and she suppressed a shudder. There was no alternative - she **had **to be alive. 

_"I can't possibly prepare you for all of the possibilities you might face, but just remember this as a certainty: when you throw up, do it away from the crime scene."_ Stepping into the gutted facade of what used to be a popular nightclub, Olivia glanced around for a discreet spot. She knew better than to ignore Huang's advice, and by the smell of the place, Olivia wouldn't be able to keep her breakfast down for much longer. 

Peering into the grimy darkness, the detectives began to tiptoe through the rubbish cluttering the floor, stepping over loose boards and burnt bar accoutrements, the only evidence that the condemned building had seen better days. Guns drawn, Elliot and Olivia stalked back-to-back until they reached a crossroads, with open doorways on either side of them. "She's probably further in," Elliot murmured. "He wouldn't keep her so close to the door." 

"Right." _Alex, where are you?_ Olivia thought, tension pumping through her veins like heroin, making her senses pin-drop acute. Hearing a tiny scurrying noise, Olivia turned toward the doorway on her left. "Elliot," she whispered. "Rats?" 

"Blood draws rats," he affirmed, turning the same way. "You go in, I'll cover you." 

The tone of her cell phone pierced the air and Olivia jumped, stifling a scream. The pair glanced around the room, realizing that if Mark were around, he would've made himself known then, probably by the report of a gun. When he didn't appear, Olivia tugged the Nokia out of her back pocket, willing her racing heart to slow as she answered in a whisper. "Benson." 

"You need to meet me at my place," Emma said, her voice once again detached from any emotion. "One way or another, this is going to be over soon." 

"Emma," Olivia said softly, "we're looking for Alex. I can't come right now." 

"You're not understanding me, Olivia," Emma continued, her strides along the New York sidewalk determined and stomp-like; she was, in many ways, putting her foot down. "I'm ending this. Now." 

"Huh? How?" Olivia paused and inhaled deeply, gagging on the stale air. "Emma, what the hell are you doing?" 

"Saving myself. Saving Allie. Saving all of us." Emma's chuckle held no humor. "I'm through being scared of him. It's time for him to be scared." 

Olivia shivered at her matter-of-fact tone. "Make some sense. I don't have time for word games." Elliot quirked an eyebrow, and Olivia just shook her head. 

"Mark is coming over," she said finally, smiling at her doorman. "I'll be ready for him when he does." 

"Emma!" Olivia's sharp cry ricocheted against the vaulted ceiling. "No!" 

"I just wanted to let you know. I'll see you on the flip side." Emma disconnected and pocketed her phone, fishing out her apartment keys. She only had a few minutes to set everything up. 

On autopilot, Olivia closed the phone and stuffed it in her pocket. "Elliot, Emma's meeting Mark. She said something about ending this." Her wild eyes searched the room for something, anything, to tell her where Alex was. "I can't leave, but I - I have to." 

Elliot could tell how torn she was, and had an inkling of the reason behind her indecision. "Go," he said. "If you think you can get there fast enough, do it. I'll wait for the backup to search the rest of this place. They should be here any minute." 

"If you're sure." Elliot's expression gave her permission and Olivia darted out of the nightclub, half of her raging against the other half to stay. She passed Elliot's uniformed backup on their way in and was slightly relieved. Olivia was vaulting into the car when the relayed cry caught her attention. 

"Get an ambulance – the vic's still alive!" 

Olivia barely heard the relay as she took off, back into the building. 

"Dispatch, this is unit two-ten. We need an ambulance to fifty-two and Broadway, the old Neon Lights club." 

"Elliot!" she shouted. 

"Back and to your left," he replied in a shout. "She's alive!" 

"Alex." The name wasn't more than a strangled cry wrenched from Olivia's throat, terror mingled with relief. She skidded to a stop in the doorway, covering her mouth with one hand. She was exactly as Huang had predicted and Olivia couldn't move for a moment. The shouted cries of cops shook her free of the mental concrete and the detective crossed the room in two steps, sinking to her knees beside Elliot, who crouched over Alex's unconscious form. Olivia barely registered her work partner, all her attention focused on her life partner, who was barely breathing. "Alex," she whispered, tears filling her eyes before she fought them back. "Oh, God." Feeling the waves, Olivia bolted to the other side of the room and crouched in the corner, emptying the contents of her stomach onto the concrete floor. 

"You okay?" Elliot asked after a moment. 

Olivia nodded, wiping her mouth with her sleeve. Standing, she tried to even her breathing so she wouldn't faint. "I don't want everyone seeing her like this," she told Elliot as she stripped off her coat. Laying it on top of Alex, Olivia realized it wouldn't cover enough and took a shaky breath. "Shit." 

"It's okay." 

"It's not okay," Olivia cried, covering her eyes for a second. Dropping her hands, she shook her head. "It's not. She's…" She trailed off, crouching next to Alex again, her hand hovering an inch above the ADA's translucent skin. 

"Gonna be fine," Elliot finished for her. "Listen, Liv, you know how we all feel about Alex, and I know how you—" 

Olivia looked at Elliot with vacant eyes. "Don't try to tell me you know how I must feel, 'cause you have no clue." 

"Hell, yeah I do," her partner insisted. "If anything happened to Kath, I'd be lost." 

Her head snapped up but Olivia had no words to acknowledge the exchange. Her eyes watered with gratitude and she looked back at Alex, relief flooding her, then receding, with each miniscule rise and fall of the other woman's chest. 

"Emma needs you." Elliot broke the seemingly endless silence. "You better get to her. I'll stay with Alex and if she wakes up before you get back, I'll call you. Go." 

The whine of the ambulance made Olivia's decision for her. "Okay." The EMTs trotted in with a stretcher and backboard, and they started to prepare Alex for the ride. Leaning around them, Olivia reached for Alex's hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. "I love you," she aloud. "I'll be back." Straightening, Olivia stood and jogged toward the door, glancing back once, repeating her mantra mentally. _I'm so sorry. I'm gonna fix this._

* * *  
  


She set the stage perfectly. The candles were lit, her hair was loosely held by a claw and she would answer the door wearing only one of Mark's dress shirts. She started to steel herself for the act she'd have to use to convince him; it would involve touching him, kissing him. Once craved and hallowed movements made her want to retch initially, but in the end, they were fuel to the fires his demons had set inside her. She heard the keys jingle in the lock; of course he would let himself in. As his face appeared in her visual field, she felt herself offer a sly smile. "Welcome home." 

His eyes traveled the length of her body, taking in the long legs peeking out from beneath his dress shirt. "You changed your mind?" he asked disbelievingly. 

Emma nodded, crossing the living room and wrapping her arms around his neck. "I was wrong," she said, searching the once-caring eyes. "Alex and Olivia - they don't understand us. They were just trying to break us up. And I don't want that. Do you want that?" 

"Of course not." Mark was so relieved that she'd finally seen the light that he wrapped her in his arms immediately. "I'm so glad you realized you and I should be together." 

Emma smiled, kissing him lightly. "I've got a little champagne in the fridge. Let me go get it, and then you and I can celebrate properly." 

"Wonderful. I'm just gonna go wash up." Mark strode into the bathroom, his feet light. Scrubbing Alex's blood off his hands, he had to laugh at the irony. Maybe if the meddling sister had kept her nose out of his business, he wouldn't have needed to go that far. But he wondered what he'd do now. He'd planned to take Emma and kill them both at once. _Ah, well,_ he thought, _let her bitch find her. Doesn't matter; I have Emma._

Striding back into the living room, Mark sank onto the couch, half-wondering what was taking Emma so damn long. 

Emma heard the bathroom door snick shut and hurried to the kitchen. The baseball bat lay between the fridge and the counter, and she wrapped her slender fingers around the end. She took several deep breaths before calling out to her soon-to-be ex. "Mark, honey, can you come help me in here for a minute?" 

"Damn," he teased, "can't you even get a bottle of champagne yourself?" Mark strode into the kitchen, glancing around. "What'd you need help with?" 

Wrapping her hand tightly around the bat, Emma straightened and swung in one swift movement, connecting with Mark's sternum sharply. He stumbled backwards, and she strode after him, a cat moving in for the kill. She hit him again, sending him to his knees, and as he looked up at her, his eyes raging, she hit him in the chest again. "I can do plenty of things by myself, you son of a bitch." 

"Like what?" Mark wheezed, trying to get to his feet. "You couldn't even handle Peter." 

Emma knocked him down again with another swift bat-to-chest movement, and kicked him for good measure. "He's not bothering me anymore, is he? I'd say I handled him pretty damn well." 

Mark managed to grab onto a bar stool and hauled himself to his feet. "Managed him so damn well you still have nightmares," he threw back. He didn't know whether he was madder that Emma had tricked him or that he wouldn't get the chance to kill Alex, just Emma. "Give it up, baby," he sneered. "If I can't have you, well...it's a cliché, but it's true. No one can." 

Emma chuckled, pummeling good and hard, three times in succession. "You don't have me, you bastard. You lost me, of your own volition. **You **did this. Not me." 

"No, honey," Mark gasped, searching for something with which to defend himself. "You had this coming since you dumped me five years ago. For no damn reason," he raged. 

"Is that what this is about?" Emma stopped her movements momentarily, stunned. "You came back for me, you asshole. I fucking **married **you. And you still can't get over the fact that you started to creep me out?" She shook her head. "I have to be the dumbest woman on the face of the planet. I have to be." 

With Emma momentarily distracted, Mark reached up and grabbed the bat, wresting it out of her weakened grasp. "Bitch!" he screamed, struggling to get back up. 

Emma turned and ran back into the nearest room - the kitchen. She frantically searched for anything that would serve as a weapon. She lunged for the carving block of knives, and pulled out the largest handle. Back against the wall, she held the knife in front of her sternum. As Mark entered the kitchen, wielding the bat in exactly the same fashion that she had, she steeled her gaze against his rage. "You take one step towards me, and you're a dead man." 

True to form, Mark stepped forward, raising the bat to crack it over Emma's head. "You can't win." 

Deftly, she ducked under his raised arms and used her hip to knock him off balance. Darting back into the living room, her knuckles were white as she gripped the knife. The fear she had sublimated was back in full force, and she was deafened by it. She had to finish it; she knew as much. But there was a fine line between what he - this monster that made her ill - had done and what she was about to do, and she was having more trouble with it than she'd anticipated. But as she saw the determination in his eyes, she faced up to it. She crouched forward slightly, settling in for the fight. "Maybe not. But I'll go down trying." 

Mark lunged wildly, swinging the bat wide. 

The gasp that Emma emitted matched the one that seeped out of Mark as she plunged the knife into his side. The jabbing motion penetrated his skin, splattering the white of the shirt she wore. She pulled back quickly, a reflex of the sanity still inside her. She stood, stunned, as Mark crumpled to his knees, looking up at her with truly disbelieving eyes. 

His disbelief turned to rage as Mark jerked forward, grabbing the handle of the knife and twisting hard. 

Emma fought his considerable strength, bending underneath the force of his anger. The edge of the knife now at her nose, Emma turned her head and bit Mark's hand hard, catching the knife before it hit the carpet. She had to shut her eyes this time as she stabbed him again, his wailing evidence that she was inflicting pain. "Your turn," she hissed angrily, eyes narrowed. 

"Emma," Olivia growled from the open doorway, while Mark's eyes were squeezed shut in pain. "Don't fight him!" 

Emma turned, eyes wild and confused. "What?" She pulled the knife out again, holding it at Mark's bellybutton. "Stay out of this, Olivia." 

Olivia shook her head. "Emma, let him make a mark," she whispered. "I gotta have a reason." 

Emma's blue-green eyes, tainted with revenge, pain and anger, met Olivia's pleading mahogany. A wave of understanding passed between them, and Emma dropped the knife. Her head lolled like a rag doll as Mark hit her across the face with the bat, and she crumbled. But she stayed on her feet, looking him straight in the eye as he landed another blow. 

Mark raged, screaming obscenities as he darted toward Emma. It took all of Olivia's willpower to let him make contact with a still-fragile Emma. The second time, the detective saw the younger woman start to shake and she made a split-second decision. As Mark made a third move, she moved to one side and released a volley of shots into his head and chest. 

The scream she wanted to expel wouldn't emerge as Mark fell beside her, blood pouring out and staining her carpet - not to mention her memory. Emma breathed heavily, sputtering breaths, tasting the salt of her tears, the gunpowder residue clinging to her and to the air, and the blood covering both of them. She rose shakily, but as she saw the determination in Olivia's eyes, Emma raised her chin. "I love self defense, don't you?" 

Nodding, Olivia's hands trembled as she holstered her gun. Finding the cordless phone on the table beside the couch, Olivia dialed 911. "This is Detective Benson from the one-six. I've got a body to be picked up and a crime scene I need secured." 

As he drew a final breath, Mark's hand shot out and circled Emma's ankle. 

Emma screamed and pulled away. Watching her husband's eyelids flutter between life and death, she knelt down, brushing back bloodied strands of hair. As her fingers trailed down his face, her left hand covered Mark's nostrils, and her right hand covered his mouth. His last gurgling, bloody breaths on earth were spent staring up into the eyes of his obsession as she ended it all. 

* * *  
  


The ER doors swung open as Alex's stretcher barreled through them. "What've we got?" the doctor demanded. 

"Female, early thirties, multiple face lacs and contusions, possible broken ribs, and definite sexual trauma," the EMT reported, watching Stabler stay hot on the trauma team's heels. "Pulse is thready at 50/80, resp's also below normal." 

"CBC, lytes, chem 7," the doctor rattled off as the team gently moved Alex from the stretcher to a bed. Elliot had to look away as the trail of blood from her open head wounds splattered on the green tile. The EMT bagged the sheet and handed it to Elliot, in case there were any transferred hairs or fibers from the assailant. Elliot only half-realized what was going on as the EMT patted him on the shoulder and left; he had seen a lot in his decade of working SVU, but seeing this kind of pain inflicted on someone he knew, someone he liked and trusted, was almost too much for the seasoned veteran to watch. The doctor came quickly out of the room and looked at Elliot. "Are you her husband?" 

Elliot pulled out his badge, watching the nurses set up an ultrasound to look for internal bleeding. "Stabler, Special Victims." 

"Sorry, Detective. Hell of a case to catch. I'll do the rape kit as soon as we stabilize her." 

"How is she?" Elliot asked quietly. 

The doctor looked at Elliot curiously. "It's touch and go, until we can get neuro down here to visualize the extent of the cranial damage. He did a number on her. Do we have a name?"

"Alexandra Cabot." Cragen stopped next to the two men, and visually paled as he saw Alex lying on the table. "Holy Christ." 

"Are **you** the husband?" the doctor asked, beckoning another nurse to his side. 

"Captain Cragen, Special Victims." Cragen matched Elliot's earlier movements perfectly. "Listen, she's one of the ADAs for Manhattan. Until we finish our investigation, you have no comment on her condition. Understood?" 

The doctor nodded. "Yes, Captain. I'll let you know when we're ready to move her. Excuse me." He disappeared back into the trauma room, and Elliot and Cragen were assaulted by the sounds of pulsing, hissing and beeping monitors. 

After a moment of silence, Cragen cleared his throat. "Benson called while you were en route with Alex. Mark was shot and killed as he attacked Emma in her apartment. They're bringing Emma in for her statement." 

Elliot shook his head, and looked at his boss. "Emma called Olivia when we were at the scene." 

Cragen turned his head sharply. "We know nothing until IAB is done with their investigation." 

Stabler nodded with understanding. "Yessir. Do you want me to go take Emma's statement?" 

Cragen nodded. "I'll stay with Alex." 

Elliot clapped his boss on the back briefly and walked out into the dissipating afternoon, conflicted with knowledge and justice. Was it in fact self-defense? Or was it murder? He decided to take Cragen's advice and wait on making a decision until he spoke with Emma and Olivia. 

Donald remained staunch at the doors to the trauma room as the staff bustled about, trying to stop the bleeding, both internal and external. His heart stopped as they all stepped back after a moment, but he remembered to breathe as the doctor reemerged. "She's a fighter," he said quietly as they rolled Alex past. "We're taking her upstairs to run a PET scan and finish the rape kit. Didn't want to do it with an audience," he finished, pointing to the growing crowd of reporters. 

"Thanks," Cragen replied, following the stretcher. He caught up, taking Alex's fingers in his own. He didn't let go until she was safely in a private room and the nurses pushed him out of the way him so they could finish hooking her up. After they left, Cragen pulled a chair to her bedside and covered her hand with his, brushing her hair away from her face. "Alex," he whispered. "I'm here." 

She lay still for a long time; he wasn't sure how much time had passed when she started to twitch. He was afraid she was having a seizure, and he was halfway to the door when she moaned quietly. "Alex?" he asked, cupping her cheek. "Alex?" 

"Liv?" she whispered, her eyelids fluttering. 

Cragen smiled wistfully. "It's Donald," he explained. Her brow furrowed, and she tried fighting again. "Hey, hey, Cabot," he said softly, placing a strong hand on her shoulder. "Lie still." 

"Hurts," she whispered again, eyes still closed. 

"I know. The doctors are helping you. You just have to be still and rest." 

"Liv..." 

He watched how she sucked her lower lip into her mouth as she drew out her partner's nickname, and a twang of something foreign hit Donald square in the chest. "Rest, Alex. I'll get Olivia for you." 

Her face relaxed, and her breathing became even. He sat back down, still holding her hand, but pulled out his cell phone and dialed the precinct. 

Olivia dodged three officers, practically diving toward her desk. "Benson," she answered breathlessly. _Please God, let her be okay._

"It's Cragen," he replied quietly. "She's asking for you." 

"She's awake?" she repeated unnecessarily, afraid to feel the relief. 

"Well, kind of," Cragen replied, rubbing his thumb over her knuckles. "She's drifting in and out, but she did ask for you." 

"I'll be there as soon as I can. Tell her I..." Olivia lowered her voice. "Tell her I'm on my way." 

"I will," Cragen promised, smiling despite himself at Olivia's soft tone. "She's in room 454. Neuro wing." 

"Thanks." Olivia hung up and grabbed her coat. "Munch, Alex is awake. I'm going over now. As soon as Elliot gets done taking her statement, can you bring Emma over?" 

Munch nodded. "Give her our best." 

Alex stirred about twenty minutes later, and opened her eyes briefly. She sighed when she looked at Donald, but squeezed his hand anyway. "Don't try to talk," Cragen ordered. "Just rest." 

She opened her eyes again, and he shook his head sternly. "Don't move, Cabot, or I'll tie you to the bed. With restraints," he added as an afterthought as a glimpse of devilish blue trimmed her eyes for a minute. "The doctors are still analyzing your tests," he said, knowing she'd want an explanation, "and Olivia's on her way. She said..." He broke off, under the guise of lowering his voice, but in reality, he had to face the actuality that he had probably lost her forever. "She said she loves you."

Alex smiled briefly, her eyes slipping shut. She squeezed his hands, and mouthed, 'Thank you.' 

He rose and kissed her forehead. "Rest."

Sprinting into the hospital, Olivia strode past the nurses station on the fourth floor, following the signs toward room 454. 

"Ma'am," a nurse called nervously after her. "Ma'am, that's a restricted area. You can't go back there without a doctor's permission." 

Olivia turned back, her steely gaze measuring the nurse levelly. "Room 454," she said without preamble. "Alexandra Cabot." 

"I'll call her doctor, but it will be a while. He's on rounds," the nurse explained, reaching for the phone. 

Glancing at the nurse's badge, Olivia flashed her own badge and motioned for the nurse to hang up the phone. "Miss...Reynolds. I don't have time to wait. Miss Cabot is my...partner," her tongue parried with the word. 

"I know how close cops can be to their partners," the nurse clucked sympathetically, "but rules are rules." 

Sighing, Olivia shook her head, bracing herself for what she was about to say aloud. "Not my work partner; my domestic partner." Her brown eyes pleaded for understanding. "Please. Just let me make sure she's all right. I'll only stay a few minutes." 

Nurse Reynolds offered a small smile. "I can't let you go back there without doctor's permission." As Olivia started to protest, she turned away, saying over her shoulder, "but if you happened to sneak by while my back was turned, I'd have no way of knowing, would I?" 

Olivia didn't answer. By the time the nurse turned around, she was down the hall and out of sight. 

Cragen felt Olivia enter the room, and turned to meet her harried face. "Her doctors were just here," he said, standing and letting Olivia have his 'watchdog seat'. "She doesn't need a ventilator, although she does have a few cracked ribs. Her head trauma is still being looked at; they'll probably need to run another PET scan. They found fluids on her, both semen and urine. He got her good." 

Flinching, Olivia nodded, slipping silently into his vacated chair. "Thanks," she told her boss softly. "I'm sure Alex appreciated seeing a friendly face when she woke up." 

"I think she would have preferred to see yours," Cragen replied, pausing a moment. "Are you all right?" 

She didn't know how to respond to Cragen's first comment without giving their relationship away, so she ignored it in favor of his question. "Physically, yeah." Olivia glanced at Alex, aching to touch her but afraid it would reveal everything she felt for the woman lying broken in front of her. "It was something else seeing her like...that." 

"You never want to see someone you love like this. But she's a trooper; you know that. She'll be yelling at us to get her out of here in no time." Cragen placed a brief hand on Olivia's shoulder, then started to back away out of respect. "I'm going to go check on Emma. Keep me informed, okay?" 

"Cap." Olivia murmured the word. 

Cragen stopped and turned, eyebrows raised in question. 

"How long ago did Emma tell you?" She turned grateful eyes toward the man who made her job bearable. 

"Before Alex moved to the city," Cragen confirmed, looking at the tile for a minute. "That child could never keep her mouth shut." 

Allowing herself a soft chuckle, Olivia shook her head. "Okay," was all she said in acknowledgement. 

Cragen offered a tight-lipped nod as he slipped out of Alex's room. There was a time that he wouldn't have left Alex's side, whether they were in a relationship or not. But as he walked towards the squad car he'd commandeered, he looked back up at the hospital, knowing, even as his heart broke, that she was in good hands. 

As soon as Cragen left the room, Olivia pulled her chair flush with the bed. She ran a tender hand over Alex's forehead, being careful not to jostle the bandages covering her wounds. "Alex," Olivia murmured lovingly. "I'm here." 

Alex rustled beneath the thin blanket, instinctively nudging Olivia's hand. "Liv?" she asked tiredly. 

"Yeah." Olivia stroked Alex's hair, her fingers gentle. "Sorry it took me so long. I had to make sure Emma was okay first, and I knew Don was with you." 

"She okay?" Alex's eyes were still closed; one an angry, swollen purple. 

Olivia smiled, though her tears threatened to spill over. "She's fine, honey. Well, as fine as you can be when ..." The detective trailed off, wondering for a moment whether Alex really needed to hear all this now. 

"When what?" Alex laced her fingers with Olivia's. "Talk to me." 

"Mark's dead," she said simply, squeezing Alex's hand as hard as she dared. 

"How?" Alex rasped, shifting in bed, her limbs still heavy. 

"I'll tell you everything when you're feeling better," Olivia promised. "Lie still, you're gonna rip your IV out." 

It was only because she had a healthy dose of painkillers running through her system that Alex stopped her questioning for a few minutes. Her breathing became slightly stronger, and as it did, her pain increased, leaving her feeling like she was broken in a thousand places. "How bad?" she finally asked. 

Olivia took a shallow breath. "You're pretty beat up," she admitted softly, regretting her promise to always be truthful with Alex. "But you'll get better. And until you do, I'll be here." Olivia cupped Alex's cheek. 

"I don't...remember," Alex managed. "Warehouse, I think." She coughed, then licked her lips. "Rape?" 

Steeling herself, Olivia replied stiffly, "Yes. He raped you." 

Alex's head lolled back against the pillow, and an exhausted sigh shook her entire body. "Damn it." 

"Shhh," Olivia tried to quiet her. "Just relax. We'll talk about everything when you're feeling better." 

"'Kay." Alex took several deep breaths again, silent tears soaking the bandages on her face. "Stay." 

"Oh, honey." Olivia's heart broke at the sight of the tears on Alex's cheeks. "Don't cry, it's okay. I promise." She hesitated only a moment before climbing into the bed and wrapping her arms around Alex. "Please don't cry. You know I don't know what to do when you cry." 

The splint on her arm didn't allow Alex to wrap her own arms, also weighed down by wires and IVs, around Olivia, but she was coherent enough to lay her head on her partner's shoulder. "It hurts," she whispered. "So badly." 

"I'll call the nurse." Olivia reached for the call button, trying not to shake Alex too much with her movements. 

Nurse Reynolds responded and upped Alex's pain medication, smiling at Olivia as she did so. "This dose will knock her out for at least a couple of hours," she murmured, checking Alex's IV again. "Why don't you try and get some rest while you can?" 

"I need to go take care of some things," Olivia said, regretfully slipping out of the hospital bed. "If she wakes up, tell her I'll be back, okay? I don't want her to think I just up and left." She ran a hand over Alex's upper arm, her expression worried. 

"Don't worry," Nurse Reynolds promised, patting Olivia's arm. "I'll tell her." 

"Thank you." The very grateful detective made her way out into the cool evening. 

* * *  
  


Emma leaned back in her chair, arms crossed, heaving a loud sigh. "Look, we've been over and over and **over** this. I told you what happened. My husband started beating me with a baseball bat, and Detective Benson used force to get him to stop hurting me. He was going to kill me." 

"It doesn't take three shots to the head to bring a man to his knees, Miss Cabot," the investigator replied with a sneer. "Seems like Detective Benson was shooting to kill, not just to incapacitate him."

"You'll have to ask Detective Benson why she was shooting. All I know is that my husband not only orchestrated my kidnapping but tormented my family for the past month and a half. In my mind, it was either kill or be killed." Emma sighed, running a hand through her hair. "I am exceptionally grateful to Detective Benson for saving my life today." 

"If she violated police protocol, she'll have to answer for that." 

The sharp knock on the door interrupted the investigator's monologue before it could really get started. 

Both Emma's and the investigator's heads turned at the same time, Emma's heart beating quickly. "Enter!" the investigator boomed, still staring Emma down. 

Olivia stepped into the room and glanced between Emma and the man in front of her. "Investigator Sims," she greeted him coolly. 

"Detective Benson," he replied, with a polite nod. 

Turning to Emma, Olivia allowed herself a small smile, her first in days. "Alex woke up for a little while." 

"Thank God," Emma breathed. "You know, I should have been there to see her wake up. Wonder what could have kept me." 

Recognizing the Pissed Off Cabot Look, Olivia warned Emma with a slight shake of her head. Bitching wouldn't get her anywhere with this guy. "It's okay. Don was there, and I talked to her for a little bit. She knows about Mark, but not much more. I think we—you," she corrected herself for Sims' benefit, "should wait until she's stronger before you give her the details." 

Emma nodded. "I will. Did they tell you how long she'd have to stay in the hospital?" 

"No. From what I understand, they're running a few more tests to see the full extent of the head injury." 

Sims watched the exchange dispassionately, but Olivia knew he was taking a mental note of every word. 

"God," Emma shook her head disbelievingly. She turned back to Sims, eyes defiant. "And you were asking me what again? If I was upset that my husband was so tragically killed this afternoon?" 

"Emma," Olivia said firmly. She turned to Sims and asked, "Are you done with her? I'd like to get this over with." 

"Just one more question, Miss Cabot, and you'll be free to go. Did you or did you not call Detective Benson's cell phone approximately one hour before Detective Benson shot your husband?" 

Emma shrugged. "I don't recall." 

"You don't recall?" Sims' eyes widened. "You didn't call Detective Benson before you inflicted these wounds on your husband?" He pulled out the recently delivered autopsy photos and spread them in front of Emma. 

She turned away quickly from the bloodied face of her husband. "God, what do you have, a one-hour photo lab in your morgue? I don't recall what I said to Detective Benson, nor do I even recall phoning her. If I did, I was probably asking her if she had found my sister." She rose from the table, pulling her coat on. "Don't you think I've grieved enough?" 

Sims put the photos back into their sleeve. "Yes, Miss Cabot, I think you have. We'll be contacting you if we have any further questions." 

Emma turned and strode quickly into the hallway, tears formed and falling.

Wishing she could fix this like she'd fixed the Mark problem, Olivia sighed, sinking into Emma's chair. 

"Detective Benson," Sims said, starting a new sheet on his legal pad. "When did you first come to know Emma Cabot-Miller?" 

"A little over two years ago," Olivia replied calmly. "Mark, her late husband, along with her abusive stepfather, orchestrated her kidnapping." 

"And you've remained close since then? You've developed a friendship?" 

"Yes." Olivia eyed him. _Gotta__ work a little harder than that, Rat._

"And when was it that you became romantically involved with Miss Cabot's sister, ADA Alexandra Cabot?" 

Olivia swallowed her surprise, fielding the question deftly. "As of today, I haven't. I'll let you know how it goes." 

Sims leaned back in his chair, drumming his pen against his legal pad. "Detective Benson, you understand the punishment associated with lying during this IAB interview, correct?" 

"Immediate termination from the force, loss of retirement benefits and civil retribution," Olivia recited solemnly. 

"Very good, Detective. So if at any point during this session, you'd like to rethink your answer to that question, let me know." Sims moved down his pad and then asked another question. "Why did you go to Miss Cabot's apartment today?" 

Olivia tried to answer quickly, but not so quickly that it sounded rehearsed. "Upon securing Alexandra's safety, I endeavored to finish my job, and make certain that her sister was in no further danger from her estranged husband." 

"Yes, but how did you know she was in danger?" Sims pressed. "We've gotten a look at her cell phone records, and they indicate she phoned her husband, and then called you. Then, magically, this man, who had a civil restraining order and pending divorce petition on him, shows up to where Miss Cabot was. And then you showed up to save the day. Doesn't that seem a bit coincidental to you, Detective?" 

Olivia leaned forward, as if to divulge secret information. "Investigator Sims," she said simply, "Mark Miller was a sociopath. My partner and I recently uncovered evidence that he's been stalking Emma Cabot for five years. He had no intention of stopping now. So when we arrived at the crime scene and found Alex alive, we knew Mark must be going after Emma." She leaned back with a shrug. "You call it 'coincidental', I call it 'good detective work'." 

"Detective Benson, are you telling me that Emma Cabot returned to the apartment she shared with her husband after almost a month's absence?" 

_Fuck._ "She probably went back to pack her things." 

"And she called her abusive, sociopathic husband to help?" Sims leaned back in his chair. "All right, Benson. I'm gonna cut the BS. Emma Cabot planned to kill her husband today, and she called you to let you know. You went over there, and you shot him to protect her. So now, the real murderer is hiding behind you, and you're hiding behind the media-dubbed 'blue shield'." He leaned forward, meeting her eye to eye. "Do you want to go down protecting some little debutante who couldn't handle her man?" 

Willing herself not to strangle the son of a bitch, Olivia forced a half-smile onto her face. "Emma Cabot loved her husband. When she found out he'd planned her kidnapping two years ago, she refused to believe it and was so devastated that she stopped speaking to her own sister for three days. Now you tell me, does that sound like someone who could plan her husband's murder?"

"Looking at the evidence, yes, it does, Detective." Sims paused a minute. "Are you saying, on the record, Detective Benson, that you did not go to Emma Cabot's apartment this afternoon with the express purpose of shooting Mark Miller?" 

"That's what I'm saying. I had no intention of shooting Mark Miller." _I was gonna club him like a baby seal and let Emma skin him alive like __Hannibal__ Lechter._

"Who covered his nose and mouth, Detective?" Sims slid the preliminary autopsy report towards her. "Coroner says he asphyxiated." 

"Well I'm no M.E., but couldn't he have choked on his own blood?" Olivia slid the report back triumphantly. 

Sims cocked his head slightly, but returned the report to the bottom of his pile of files. "You have an answer for everything, don't you, Detective?" 

Olivia shrugged, fighting a grin. "I'm just saying, there's an alternate theory." 

"Alternate, but false." Sims capped his pen. "Detective Benson, knowing and understanding the penalties of lying to an Internal Affairs Bureau officer, do you stand by the statement you've made here today?" 

"Of course I do." 

"I will be contacting you when I have further questions." Sims gestured to the door. "Pass along my well wishes to the ADA." 

"Will do." 

Olivia stood and stopped by the door. "Who should I send in next?" 

"You're the last one today, Detective," Sims replied, mulling the fact that he'd never get enough on her or Emma Cabot to press for an indictment on Mark Miller's murder. "I'll be speaking with your colleagues tomorrow." 

"I'll pass the Binaca around." Olivia snorted with barely-contained laughter as she disappeared out the door. "Hey, Munch," she said, spotting the other detective in the bullpen, "did Leo Sims get to you yet?" 

"Yeah. Bastard," he muttered. "Didn't have much to tell him; you and Elliot were the primaries both times. I never saw anything really important go down." 

"It's okay." Olivia smiled at his frustration. Munch was a little abrasive, but he was a good guy to have on your side when the shit came down. "Did he ask you about me an' Alex?" 

"Yeah," Munch affirmed with a shrug. "I don't know anything," he glossed over easily. "Besides, what does that have to do with anything? He can't legally ask that, anyway. For all the crap our government knows and wants to know about us, they shy away from the most intimate details. It's the only thing I really respect 'em for." 

Olivia chuckled softly. "Big Brother's a prude." 

Munch grinned. "Hell yeah. Hey, how is Alex, anyway? Nobody's really let us know anything." 

"I'm sorry," Olivia apologized immediately. "I didn't even think...Alex woke up a while ago, spoke to Cragen for a little bit. She talked to me, but it kinda stressed her out, so they gave her another hit of morphine. I think she'll be sleeping for most of the next few days." 

"Well, I hope she gets well quick. We need her to keep us in line." Munch smiled thinly, but it was a personal, warm gesture - as warm as John Munch could get. Checking his watch, he said, "I'm gonna split. Tell Emma to call if she needs anything." He paused, realizing what he had said. "And Alex, too. We're here to help." 

"Thanks, big guy." Olivia clapped a hand to his shoulder with a smile. "We all appreciate it."

Munch nodded succinctly. "'Night, Olivia." 

"Olivia?" Emma stepped up behind her, but didn't want to startle her. 

Olivia turned, her face carefully neutral. "Hey, Em." 

"I was going to visit Alex but I didn't know which room she was in, so I waited for you." Emma inclined her head to one side, to indicate that they might want to talk outside. 

"Okay." Taking the hint, Olivia followed her to the steps of the precinct. 

As soon as they had found a secluded spot away from prying ears, Emma expelled a loud sigh of relief. "I didn't think they commenced those types of hearings for months afterwards, certainly not the same day." 

"Oh, the hearings won't be for another two months," Olivia explained. "These are just the preliminary interviews, to see if there's enough evidence to justify a hearing." 

"Damn bureaucracy," Emma griped. "I'm sorry I got you involved in this. I didn't consider how this might affect you and I'm sorry for that." 

Shaking her head, Olivia slid an arm around Emma's shoulders and squeezed tightly. Her next comment was made in a hushed whisper. "You're family." 

Emma smiled brightly, her first in weeks. "Speaking of family, I bet my sister's awake and grumpy as hell by now. Are you coming?" 

"Try and stop me."

* * *  
  


Alex was reclining in bed when they arrived, and she smiled weakly, but genuinely. "Hey," she rasped. "I thought you two had abandoned me for shopping or something." 

Emma stopped at the end of her sister's bed, nearly sick to her stomach. Alex's beautiful face was a menagerie of green, yellow and purple, her right eye almost completely swollen shut. Her left arm was in a splint, and the entire circumference of her head was wrapped in gauze, no doubt hiding the massive head wound that had caused the doctors so much worry. Emma put on a brave face, however, and shrugged. "We tried. No selection at Macy's. We'll hit Bloomie's first thing in the morning." 

Alex chuckled. "Doctors finally cleared my CAT scan. There's a bit of bruising, but nothing permanent. I'll be sore for a good while, but they should release me by the end of the week." 

"Good." Olivia shut the hospital room door, taking up her seat and gesturing for Emma to take the other. "You feeling any better?" she asked gently, taking Alex's undamaged hand in hers. 

Alex attempted a shrug. "I'm achy, and I have a bitch of a headache. But I'm holding my own." She searched Olivia's eyes, caressing the detective's hand. "How are you?" 

"I'm fine." Olivia met Emma's eyes across the bed. "Will you listen to this? She's worried about **me**." 

Emma and Alex chuckled in tandem. "She's that type of gal," Emma said, playfully pretending to slug her sister across the shoulder. 

Alex only had eyes for Olivia. "You just look like you've had about as bad a day as I have." She finally looked at her sister, and then back at Olivia. "You were here earlier, right?" 

"Yeah," Olivia confirmed, smiling the smile that only Alex ever earned. "I came by to see you before." 

"You promised me you'd explain what happened today," Alex said. "With Mark and everything."

Glancing at Emma, Olivia said quietly, "I don't really think Emma wants to talk about this now." She looked between the sisters. 

Emma rose, kissing her sister's cheek. "I have this sudden, incredible urge for terrifyingly awful vending machine coffee. I'll be back in a few, okay?" She offered a wink at Olivia and closed the door quietly behind her. 

Alex raised her eyebrows as the door clicked behind her little sister. "Out with it." 

Olivia sighed and gave her the sterilized version. Anything else was at Emma's discretion. "After I made sure you were safe with the EMTs, I went to Emma's place, to make sure Mark hadn't gotten to her. When I got there, he was attacking her with a baseball bat. I had to shoot him." 

"God," Alex winced, for once not concerned about her own ordeal. "From the amount of cover-up she's wearing, I'd say he at least hit a triple." She shook her head. "IAB starting an investigation on you?" 

"Started interviewing everyone today," Olivia confirmed, winking at Alex. "And me without my attorney." 

Alex chuckled, squeezing Olivia's hand gently. "You don't have anything to worry about, I'm sure. Seems like you had no choice." 

"No." The detective acknowledged the truth of her girlfriend's words, despite her ignorance of the facts. "I didn't." 

Alex sighed, leaning back against her pillows. "What I wouldn't give for a cheeseburger, a glass of wine and a bubble bath right now." 

"Wine and a cheeseburger. Alexandra Cabot, you're such a classy chick." Olivia had to laugh, leaning over to kiss Alex gently. "I promise, as soon as you get out of here, I'll deliver all three." 

Alex cupped Olivia's cheek gently, curling into the kiss. She offered a grin after they separated. "I'm going to hold you to that. I don't think I can survive a week of hospital food and constant bed checks without something to look forward to." 

Smiling at Alex's optimism, Olivia nodded. "In fact, I may have something more to offer you. But you'll just have to wait and see." Sinking back into the chair, the detective eyed her girlfriend. "Are you feeling up to a serious talk?" 

Alex nodded, inquisitive eyes questioning. "What's up?" 

She took a deep breath, trying to stabilize her whirling mind. "Alex, I've been a detective for over five years, a cop for nearly fifteen. I've seen every kind of horrible inhumanity imaginable, but today was the first time I was ever truly sickened by my job. I don't think I'll ever see anything more terrifying than that first glimpse of you, lying there so still, so weak from what he'd done to you." Olivia squeezed her eyes shut, opening them only when she felt the tears had been dammed. Reaching out to stroke Alex's cheek with a feather-light touch, Olivia went on. "It's really gotten me thinking. I know I've been a little distant in the past few weeks. The whole thing with Trevor just threw me for a loop, you know?" 

"I'm sorry about that," Alex offered, covering Olivia's hand with her own. "I knew, as a defense attorney, he could give me the strategies the defense might use to get Mark off for what he did to Emma. I just wanted to…entice him. I thought maybe he'd give them up more easily. I never meant to hurt you." 

"I know that now," Olivia assured her, lacing their fingers together. "The reason I brought it up is...well, okay." She took a shaky breath, grinning in embarrassment. "I'm still not sure about all this - long-term commitment and all that. But," Olivia rushed to add, "I don't know what I'd do without you to come home to, and I don't want to find out. So...I'm not sure what I'm trying to say," she fumbled, staring at their joined hands. "Wanna go steady?" Olivia chuckled, finally meeting Alex's eyes. 

Alex didn't have a chance to reply; her sister's squeal of "Awww!" from the hallway acted as her answer. "Sorry!" Emma called back, kicking herself. "Forget I'm here!" 

The exceptionally verbose Alexandra Cabot was officially at a loss for words. Memories of the past two years swirled in her mind, from first meeting Olivia, to that kiss in the parking lot, to that night on the balcony. All their dinners, their movie/make-out nights, everything flooded her perception at once. She looked back at Olivia and smiled beatifically. "Don't you have to put a pin on me or something?" 

Her witty retort stuck in her throat. Olivia grinned at Alex, reaching behind her and gathering her jacket into her lap. Removing the tiny pin, she said, "You're right." Raising her hands, Olivia pinned the miniature NYPD shield onto Alex's hospital gown. "For heroism above and beyond the call of duty," she murmured, kissing Alex softly. "Get in here!" she called to Emma. "Eavesdropping little shit." 

Emma had returned from her alleged coffee run with a massive bouquet of flowers and an odd-looking stuffed animal for her sister. "You two have to be the cutest things this side of Disney World," she gushed. "So, can I start planning for nieces and nephews?" 

"Emma Katherine, I will beat you with that silly-looking dog if you mention that again, you hear me?" Alex shook her head. "You should be at home resting, anyway." 

"It's a dog? I thought it was a bear. Possibly a moose." Emma winked, sitting back in her seat. "Nice pin," she commented with a grin. 

"For five years as an outstanding detective in the Special Victims Unit," Alex said proudly. 

There was a swift knock at the door, and Nurse Reynolds entered. "Visiting hours are over," she announced. "But if the ADA needs a police guard for her stay here, I think I can procure a cot for you." 

Smiling happily, Olivia raised an eyebrow at Alex. "Are you gonna be okay alone?" 

Alex nodded. "Sure. As long as you bring me my cheeseburger tomorrow." 

"I didn't hear that," Nurse Reynolds said, adjusting Alex's pain medication to help lull her to sleep. 

"No, you didn't," Alex agreed. Motioning to Emma, she squeezed Olivia's hand again. "Get her home." 

"Yes, ma'am." Olivia leaned down to kiss Alex goodbye, running her fingers over her pin with a grin. "Looks better on you than it did on me," she observed. 

Alex smiled, kissing Olivia first, then offering a sisterly kiss to Emma. "Will one of you bring some of my books from the office tomorrow?" 

"No," they responded in tandem. "No work for a few days," Olivia insisted, making her way to the door. 

"Do you want me to go stark raving mad?" Alex asked their retreating backs. "It'll be on your heads when I start waving my bedpan around like a lunatic." 

Emma groaned, then laughed. "My sister on drugs. I should have a video camera." 

"Yeah. I hear America's Funniest pays well," Olivia chuckled as they headed toward her car.

THE END


	10. Blue

"Wine, Emma?"

"Look at this face. Does this look like a wine face to you?" Emma hopped up on the bar stool and rapped her fingernails against the custom-made mahogany bar. "Captain Morgan gold," she ordered. She turned on the bar stool, long legs ensconced in black pantyhose and strappy heels. 'Renew' was another success in her professional life. But as the neon danced against the new glass walls, she felt empty somehow. It had been almost a month since Mark's death, and she continued to curse his victory over her. He was peaceful, and here she was, edgy and bitchy to most everyone who crossed her path. 

The bartender tapped her on the shoulder, and she turned and downed the drink in a fluid motion. The drops of rum teetered on the edge of the glass, and she knocked it against the wood again. "More, please." Behind her, a club version of Vertical Horizon's 'We Are' bounced off the black tile that covered the spot where Alex had been victimized. Emma had wanted to burn the remainder of the building to the ground after what had happened, but money and time had once again gotten the better of her. She wasn't sure she'd ever forgive herself for that decision; it was the least she owed Alex. 

The past few weeks hadn't been easy for her unshakeable sister, who had been rocked to her core. She dove into work, shutting everything else out under the guise of needing to regroup. Her voice was laden with exhaustion all the time, her eyes a dismal gray. She carried the weight of Emma's choices on her shoulders, and each time she saw her sister, Emma thought back to the fight they'd had after she'd received the first letter from Mark. _You could never understand._ What she wouldn't give to take those words back, to take it all back. 

Emma rubbed her forehead with manicured nails, watching the crowd, who were completely oblivious to the torrent of guilt and pain writhing through her. She wanted to scream, get them all out of there, get them to realize that with every step they took, she was losing the last grip of life she had in her. She threw back another shot of the rum, and returned it to the bartender without a glance or a wiry word. She needed to breathe; the back room summoned her, and she responded, a moth to the flame of potential calm. She avoided the missteps of liquor board invitees and slammed the door quickly. She leaned against it, sighing heavily. She moved to her desk and pulled out a bottle of pills her psychiatrist had prescribed, swallowing two dry. He said she was depressed; she felt manic and feral, completely out of control. And she hated every minute of it. But what was there to do? She caught a glimpse of herself in the sterling silver mirror hanging on the opposite wall. Every hair was in place, the dress fit perfectly, and that fake perma-smile was just convincing enough. She took a deep breath and squared her shoulders, returning to the bar and ordering herself a nice, strong rum and Coke. 

Her strong hand gripped Emma's shoulder almost too tightly, having sought out the familiar face in a gulf of strangers. "Trying to drown your success?" Olivia asked lightly, her concern hidden transparently behind a sisterly smile of pride. 

Emma turned quickly, knocking her elbow into the corner of the bar. "Nah, just wallowing over the fact that my sister is MIA again," she answered deftly, motioning Joey, her new favorite bartender, over to quench Olivia's thirst. "I'm glad you could come, though. Maybe this means I can convince you to mosh one of these days, after all." 

"Not a chance, Cabot." Olivia shook her head, declining a drink. "Alex isn't here?" 

Emma shook her head. "I left her a couple of voicemail messages, but she never got back to me. Such is life in the big city, I suppose." She motioned to the dance floor. "A little bit better than the last time you saw it, huh?" 

Turning, Olivia cast a quick glance across the crowded club. "Looks good," she confirmed, a note of pride lingering in her voice. "You did a great job with it." Without her consent, the detective's eyes slithered to the black-tiled floor, shimmering now under the strobe lights. A shy month ago, that floor had been the seat of unspeakable horror, inflicted upon her partner. Olivia shivered, her gaze wandering back to Emma's strained face; the tiny lines etched across her forehead spoke volumes about all that the three of them had been through, and the guilt she felt that her husband and stepfather had been the cause of it. Responding to the pain Olivia saw, or imagined she saw, the detective murmured over the music, "I'm really proud of you, Em." _For everything,_ was the unspoken addendum. 

Emma knew what she said only by the movement of her lips, and she smiled, raising her glass in acknowledgement. "I haven't talked to you in a while," she said after a moment. "How's life?" 

"Hectic." Olivia mentally backtracked to the last time she'd spoken to Alex, distracted by her failure to appear at the opening. She knew how important tonight was to Emma, and Alex wouldn't have missed it for anything less important than a major case. "I'm gonna go try Alex's cell, okay? 'Scuse me." She squeezed her way through the crowd toward the door, dialing the number as she stepped out into the warm autumn night. When she got no answer, Olivia tried the office, catching the last secretary on her way home. "Hi, Janice, this is Detective Benson. I have a question about a case," she covered, the familiar lie coming easily. "Is ADA Cabot around?" 

"No, Detective, she left early today; about three, I think. You might try her cell. Do you have that number?" Janice asked helpfully. 

"Yeah, thanks, I'll do that." Olivia hung up, frustrated. Where was Alex, and why hadn't she come? She was starting to get truly concerned. 

The phone vibrated against the wood of the coffee table, and Alex moved her feet to see its faceplate blinking at her. She sighed and sat up, reluctant to move from her exceptionally comfortable position on her couch. Her slender fingers grasped at the end of the phone and dragged it toward her, and her brow furrowed as she saw Olivia's number appear on the Caller ID. She pressed 'talk' quickly and spoke into the phone. "Hey." 

"Alex," Olivia sighed in relief. "Where are you? Are you okay?" 

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine." Alex ran a hand through her messy hair, squinting at the clock on top of the TV. "Shit, is it nine already?" 

Olivia lowered her voice, trying to keep the conversation as private as possible on a busy city street on a Friday night. "Yeah. You missed most of the opening. Are you okay?" she asked again. 

"Damn it," Alex swore under her breath, flipping off the TV. "I'm fine. I fell asleep," she confessed, "and lost track of time. Is Emma pissed?" 

"No. She's disappointed, though." Olivia couldn't conceal her concern as a weary sigh escaped her. Trying to keep up with the emotional roller coaster that was the Cabot sisters was quite draining. "Do you need a ride? I lifted a car from work." 

"No. I can be there in twenty minutes." She stood, stretching languidly. "Will you still be there?" 

"I'll wait for you," Olivia promised. "I - I miss you." 

Alex smiled, shimmying into her skirt quickly, and dropping the oversized sweatpants she'd changed into, kicking them deftly back in the general vicinity of her bedroom. "I miss you, too," she replied. "I'll see you in a bit." 

She arrived promptly, still tired, but hiding it well. Olivia was waiting for her outside the club, and Alex smiled again as she climbed out of the cab. "Hey," she said, eyeing Olivia's snug jeans, concerned and pleased as her heart started to race. "Thanks for waiting." 

"Sure." Olivia raked her eyes over Alex, taking in the disheveled clothes and mussed hair. She trusted her girlfriend implicitly, but something was amiss. Stepping close, Olivia rested a protective hand on the small of Alex's back. 

"How's the party?" Alex asked as Olivia ushered her towards the club's front door. Alex had to stop a minute and look at the renovated building. The entire front was glass and steel, and offered a direct line of sight into her personal hellhole. She cleared her throat and took a tiny step back, her shoe scraping against the concrete. 

"It's..." Olivia trailed off, turning to look at Alex with a determined stare. "You don't have to go in," she reminded the attorney. "Emma would understand completely." 

Alex shook her head, and took determined steps to the front door. She threw it open, hit in the face by Robert Miles' 'Fable'. She saw her sister, and reached behind her for Olivia's hand. "Better late than never, right?" 

Emma turned slowly on the stool, and offered her sister a smile after a moment. "You look like shit." 

"I feel like shit," Alex replied, ordering a glass of wine. "Nice place." 

"Shoulda gutted it," Emma slurred, leaning against her bent elbow. "Woulda been nicer as a parking lot." 

Alex shook her head. "It's good," she replied. "Very good." 

"She's right," Olivia agreed. "It's beautiful." Her arm instinctively went to Alex's waist. 

Alex stiffened against the contact, but forced herself to take a deep breath and relax. Emma didn't seem to pick up on her sister's discomfort, and continued sipping her drink. "Where were you?" she asked her sister. 

"Home. I crashed as soon as I walked in the door." Alex offered a small apologetic smile. "It's been a long week." 

"Alex," Emma started quietly, knowing full well that under normal circumstances, her sister wouldn't have even gone home between work and a function, "are you okay?" 

Alex shook her head and finished her wine. "Why does everyone keep asking me that? I'm fine, Emma Katherine. How are you?" The question was not meant as a polite inquiry; instead, its biting tone fed off frustration and disdain. 

"Shitty," she repeated, raising her glass. "How are you, Olivia?" 

Olivia's reply of "Crappadelic," was cut off by the shrill indicator on her cell phone. "Benson," she answered, head rolling back in frustration. "Where? Yeah, I'll be there." She hung up, and offered an apologetic smile to the sisters. "Duty calls. You did a great job, Em." 

Emma smiled again, finishing off her drink. "Thanks." 

Olivia grabbed her jacket and squeezed Alex's shoulder. "I'll call you later." 

Alex nodded. "Sounds good." 

Both sisters watched as Olivia disappeared through the crowd, and it wasn't until she was clear of the club that Emma whistled lowly. "Would you like to explain to me why there's frost on my newly painted floor, Alexandra?" 

"What the hell are you talking about?" Alex asked, taking another sip of her drink. 

"I'm talking about you, the sucky-face twins, who could barely say two words to each other in the ten minutes you were together. That's not like you."

Alex shrugged. "Maybe I just don't feel up to it right now." 

Emma shook her head. "You haven't been feeling up to anything much lately, Allie. What's the matter?" 

"For the last time, nothing's the matter. Just give it up, all right?" 

"Do I need to separate you two?" The gruff voice was teasing, but also concerned. Emma shook her head as she slid off the bar stool, hugging Donald. "Alex is being a party pooper." 

"She's mad I didn't have sex with Olivia on the bar," Alex corrected. 

"Thanks for that visual, Al," Emma retorted. She lowered her voice to a conspiratorial whisper, leaning in closer to Cragen. "Someone added extra bitch flakes to her breakfast today." 

"Emma, just shut up," Alex bit back, turning her head away from her sister's hurt gaze. Emma muttered something about going to talk to one of the promoters, and left her seat vacant. Without hesitation, Cragen sat down next to Alex, hooking his foot under her stool and turning him to face her. "What the hell was that?" 

Alex sighed, rubbing her temples. "I don't know. It's just been a long week." 

"You've said that every week for a month now," Cragen replied. "Cut the BS and talk to me, Cabot." 

Alex shrugged. "What do you want me to say? I don't feel like talking much right now, to Emma, or to anybody. You know that." 

"Are you seeing that therapist Huang recommended?" 

"What business is that of yours?" Alex shook her head, a disbelieving smile on her face. 

"Like it or not, Cabot, you **are** my business." Cragen's tone was uncompromising. "I understand you need time to yourself, time to make sense of everything that's happened to you. But you're shutting yourself completely out of everything, including the three people who love you the most. That can't be helping your current state." 

"I really don't want to talk to you about this, especially here," Alex replied after a moment, rising to leave. She stopped as Don's hand curled around her arm gently. She gasped and pulled hurriedly away, and he was struck by the pain and fear in her eyes. 

"Then let's go somewhere," he pressed gently. "You know I would never hurt you, and look what you did when I touched you. That's not normal, Alex." 

"Suddenly we live in a normal world. How quaint." They shared a silent stare for a moment until she broke down and nodded. "I guess I could use a cup of coffee." 

"Good." Cragen helped her into her coat and quickly donned his own. He offered a quick wave to Emma, and ushered Alex into the fall evening. They walked down to the nearest café and he noted the pain in his chest as her dull eyes scanned the menu. She wore her defeat like a colored cloak now. It wasn't the first time she had faced injustice, but it was the first time she had been so thoroughly violated. Alexandra Cabot had always bounced back from heartache – evidenced by her determination after the Cavanaugh case - but now, something was still amiss. Cragen tentatively covered her hand with his, and her eyes met his. "Talk to me, Alex." 

She leaned back against the booth, not sure why she was even there; she'd much rather be alone. She had pushed everyone away after the Mark incident; she and Olivia were drifting apart again. Life constantly kicked her while she was down, no matter how hard she fought to get back up. It was becoming harder and harder to find her feet, no matter how much she wanted to brush herself off and begin anew. But now, as she sat and looked at the man who, even after all this time, was still a trusted friend, a part of her pain broke away, and she ached to be held. "What do you want me to say?" she finally asked, adding milk to her coffee. 

"Why was Emma ribbing you about Olivia?" 

"She thought she sensed a tension, I guess," Alex replied, stressing the word 'thought'. 

"Is there tension?" 

"Who are you, Dr. Phil?" Alex couldn't contain a chuckle. "You know I haven't been very social with anyone in the past few weeks. If there's tension between me and Olivia, there also must be tension with you and Emma." 

"There is." His voice didn't betray the hurt and concern he'd felt since the minute he walked in to her hospital room four long weeks ago; it was a simple statement of fact. "You're so tense, Alex. You're snappy, short and angry. That's not like you." 

She looked away, his hurtful words affecting her more than she would have liked. "I think I'm entitled." 

"To be affected? Hell yeah. Of course. But how many times did you tell Emma to get over it? Not to let one little incident rock her entire world? That's what you're doing. The further you go in, the less likely it is that you'll come out intact. And you know what happens when you're bitter and angry for a long period of time." 

She crinkled her nose. "No. What happens?" 

"You end up like me." There was a pause before he smiled, and she smiled briefly in return. "So unless you want to look like me when you're my age, I suggest you let out all the shit now." 

Alex licked her lips in thought. "I feel…disconnected," she began, sipping her coffee. "I have no desire to do anything, really, no desire to work any of this out. I'm just tired." 

Seeing she was going to need an intense amount of prodding, Cragen offered his hypothesis. "Maybe part of that is you don't want people seeing you as a victim. Separating yourself from people, not working 'this' out with anyone, lets you keep your emotions in control. Working through the stuff you feel could throw that out of balance, make you lose control." 

"And I hate that," Alex agreed, "but I don't think it's losing control that I'm so worried about." 

"Then what?" Cragen pressed after she stopped speaking. 

After an agonizing silence in which Alex stirred her coffee at least a dozen times, she shut her eyes briefly before offering a tiredly determined gaze. "My thoughts, everything I'm feeling…they're very jumbled and disorganized. I can't make heads or tails of them; how can anyone else?" 

Cragen brushed his thumb over her knuckles. "Do you remember how many times you tried out opening and closing arguments on me? How you edited after talking it through? You've always been better at gathering your thoughts when you have an audience." 

She thought back to her mid-twenties, her ease and familiarity with him flooding her senses. When she didn't speak, Cragen went a step further. "I think that you've convinced yourself that if you talk about this, people will think less of you." As she opened her mouth to object, Cragen cocked his head and raised his eyebrows. "You don't want anyone to see your vulnerability." 

Alex busied herself with fixing her newly refilled cup of coffee before she cupped her chin in her hand, pondering Cragen's points. "I just don't know anymore, Don. I feel like I'm going crazy."

"You've always been crazy," he kidded gently, happy when she swatted his hand playfully. "Look, Alex, I don't care who you confide in, or who you talk to about this. I just want you to take care of yourself. Do what you have to do to survive." 

"Who can I go to?" Alex asked, feeling lost. "Look at tonight. That's a pretty good example of the damn fine job I've done of pushing everyone away." 

"You didn't push me away," Cragen pointed out. "Well, okay, you tried. But I'm still here, aren't I? And so are Olivia and Emma. We just want to help you, in whatever way we can." 

"I don't think Olivia wants much to do with me," Alex replied with a sigh. 

"I highly doubt that. But that's not the point. What do **you** want to do? What makes you feel most comfortable?" 

"This is pretty good," Alex admitted. 

"Then let's start here," Cragen responded easily. As Alex looked into his caring eyes, the part of her pain that was still aching to be held started to feel soothed. She leaned back against the booth and took a deep breath. The words that poured out of her were a litany of discomfort and fear, and they encompassed thirty days of running the gamut of emotions from embarrassment to terror. She bared her soul to him for a good hour and three more cups of coffee. Cragen didn't mind the disorganization of her thoughts, her aphasia as she tried to put her feelings into words; he simply sat across from her, holding her hand. When she was could say no more, he said nothing either, just guided her out of the booth into a strong hug. He kissed the top of her head. "I'm proud of you." 

She chuckled against his shoulder and wiped her teary eyes. He leaned back and regarded her. "You want a ride home?" 

Alex pondered it for a moment and then shook her head, a halfway enthusiastic smile crossing her drained face at the request that entered her head. "You know, I really don't feel like being alone right now." 

"Step one," Cragen encouraged. "Let's grab a pizza, go crash at my place. We could talk some more." 

Alex nodded, pulling her coat back on. "That sounds really great." This time, as he ushered her into the night, he ventured his hand on the small of her back. Both of them were pleased when she didn't pull away. 

* * *

As Cragen hung her coat on the coat rack, Alex eyed the portable phone. "Can I call Emma?"

He nodded. "Of course. I'll go make some coffee." 

Alex shook her head and crinkled her nose. "I'm coffeed out. Got anything else?" 

"I'll see what I can find. Call your sister." 

Alex picked up the phone as he retreated into the kitchen, and dialed Emma's number. She picked up on the third ring, and from the silence in the background, it was obvious Emma had forgone her tradition of inviting some of the opening guests back to her apartment for a nightcap. "Hey, it's Alex." 

"Hi," Emma replied. "What's up?" 

"Not much. Listen, Em, I wanted to apologize for earlier. I didn't mean to take my frustration out on you." 

"Sure you did. But I'm sorry, too. I shouldn't have ragged on you the way I did. I know you're sensitive these days." 

"That's the thing, Emma. I didn't even realize just how oversensitive I was. But I'm working on it." 

There was a slight pause as Emma smiled. "I'm really glad to hear that, Allie. Admitting it is the first step. And you know I'm here to help in whatever way I can, right?" 

Alex nodded, smiling herself. "I know. Thanks, kid." 

"No problem. Where are you, anyway?" 

"At Don's." 

"Ah," Emma nodded in understanding. "He shanghaied you into talking." 

"Maybe it's what I needed," Alex pointed out. "Either way, I just wanted to apologize, and let you know that I'm on my way to being okay." 

"You have no idea how happy I am to hear that," Emma said sincerely. "Well, you have fun at Donald's, and I'll give you a call sometime this weekend, okay?" 

"Will do, baby sister. Thanks." 

"No problem. Love you, Allie." 

Alex's smile widened. "I love you, too, Emma. Bye." She disconnected, not surprised when she heard Cragen clear his throat and reenter the living room. "Emma sends her love." 

Cragen chuckled, handing her a beer. "It's all I had." 

"It's fine," Alex replied, settling into his couch. "Hard to believe it's almost November." 

"You still got a couple of weeks," Cragen commented, sitting next to her. "What is Emma going to be for Halloween this year?" 

Alex laughed, the sound virtually foreign to her ears. "I don't know," she answered, resting her head against the pillows. 

"How are you feeling?" Cragen asked after a moment of silence. 

"Not much like talking," Alex admitted. 

"Okay," Cragen replied immediately, reaching for the remote. "I think there's a hockey game on." 

Midway through the second period, Alex's head had dropped from the couch to Cragen's shoulder, and her breath started to even out as she drifted towards sleep. Cragen looked down at her, her worried face once again porcelain in slumber, and kissed the top of her head again. "Sleep well, Alexandra." He started to move away, stopping as she wrapped her hand around his wrist.

"Stay," she whispered, eyes still closed. 

"The couch isn't big enough for the both of us," Cragen whispered back, easing her head onto another pillow, and covering her with a blanket. He knelt down beside her, brushing a few stray blonde strands away from her eyes. "I'll be in the next room if you need me. You just sleep." 

Alex nestled into the pillows. "Thank you." 

"Always." Cragen rose, putting the television on a sleep timer, remembering how she liked to fall asleep to the drone of the set. He paused as he went towards his bedroom, watching her sleep. His heart was full of love for her again, but he pushed those thoughts out, settling for being happy he could help.   
  


* * *  
  


Alex strode into the SVU division the following Monday, her steps once again confident. She had spent a good part of the weekend at Donald's, talking when she felt like it - or when he felt she was holding out on him. She wasn't sure how she felt about him being the one she opened up to; there was a part of her that thought she should have talked to Olivia first. But, as Don had said, Alex needed to follow her own gut and do what she thought would help her most. Before she could talk to Olivia in-depth about her psychological trauma, Alex knew they needed to be on firmer relationship ground. So she gave herself two assignments: get her girlfriend back, and continue her "coffee talk" therapy sessions with Cragen. 

Glancing up from his paperwork - of which there seemed to be more with each passing day - Elliot grinned at Alex as she entered the squad room. "Mornin', Alex." Despite the obvious distance between the ADA and his partner, she and the squad had remained on good terms, beyond their professional relationships. "You look like you're feeling better." 

"I'm feeling better, thanks." Alex cleared her throat. "Morning, Olivia." 

"Hey, Alex." Olivia's mahogany-tinted voice sounded gravelly to her own ears. Clearing her throat, she managed a half-smile. "How's tricks?" 

"Good, thanks." Alex motioned to Cragen's office, then looked back at Olivia. "I have to drop off some paperwork with your boss, and then I was going to do a coffee run. Anyone care to join me?" 

"No, thanks," Elliot replied with a discreet glance at Olivia. "I've got - uh - paperwork." 

Olivia met Elliot's glance and glared at him for a second before turning back to Alex. "Sure," she acquiesced after a pause. "I've gotta talk to you about the Jackson case, anyway." 

"Sounds good. Be right back." Alex made her way to Cragen's office, dropping off the file folder without comment. Cragen's amused chuckle followed her back into the bullpen, and she stopped by Olivia's desk. "I'll have her back in ten to help you with that paperwork, Elliot." 

"No hurry." Elliot shook his head as they walked out of the squad room. All of a sudden, his brow furrowed in confusion as the detective muttered to himself. "Wait a second. We don't have a Jackson case." 

The two women walked in silence down the block to a Starbucks, and as they waited for their orders, Alex turned to Olivia, her heart in her throat. "I wanted to talk to you, if you have a couple of minutes." 

"Yeah." Olivia took the offered cups and inclined her head for Alex to pick a table. 

Alex sat towards the back of the cafe, removing the lid from her coffee, allowing the steam to warm her face momentarily. "I wanted to apologize for how I've treated you over the past couple of weeks. I...I really didn't know how to deal, and I shut you out in the cold. I'm sorry." 

"It's okay." Olivia played with the cardboard holder on her cup. "I know you're just trying to get through this." 

"'Trying' being the operative word," Alex agreed. "It's a long road back. But I guess you know that." 

Nodding, Olivia looked up and met Alex's eyes. Her heart melted, but she managed to stay together, although she wasn't sure how she did it. "According to Emma, Cragen's been pretty helpful." 

"Yeah, he has." Alex wasn't sure what to say next; she didn't want Olivia to think she had chosen Cragen over her, but in a way, she had. She took a sip of the strong coffee in the interim. "He's a good friend." 

"I'm glad." Olivia sipped at her drink, welcoming the warmth after the crispness of the October day. "I've missed you," she said softly, toying with the rim of her cup. 

"I miss you, too," Alex replied, smiling gently. "I just wasn't very good company for a while there." 

Her voice a whispery fragment of her usual bravado, Olivia replied, "I always like having you around." 

"I was pretty scared to be around you," Alex admitted. "I didn't like feeling like a victim, and I didn't want you seeing me that way." The words that she'd fought so hard to understand came more easily now, although they still cut her to the core. 

Reaching out, Olivia laid her hand palm up on the table, hoping Alex would appreciate her gesture of solidarity. "I never saw you as anything other than you, Alex. You're not what happens to you. You are who you are." 

Alex extended her hand slightly, brushing her fingertips against Olivia's. "I'm feeling less and less like me. I guess I'm doubting whether or not you want to deal with the changes in me since that day." 

Staring her girlfriend down, Olivia shook her head in disbelief. "Do you think I'm that fickle?" she asked quietly. "Just because you were hurt, I wouldn't...God, Alex." She expelled a heavy breath. "Doesn't 'I love you' mean anything any more?" 

"I wasn't implying you were anything but sincere," Alex replied quickly, leaning back against her chair, her head once again dizzy from the confusion. "I didn't know how to come to you. I mean, I love you. But that's a scary thing, especially for me - you know how used I am to being alone and working out my problems independently. I guess I felt like my entire world was rocked that day, and every foundation I held steadfast and true was shaken, even if it wasn't. You may not have doubted me, but I sure as hell did." Alex brushed her hair behind her ear. "Am I making any kind of sense, or should I just shut up before our heads explode?" 

Laughing softly, Olivia shook her head. "You never make sense, but it's okay. I missed your train-of-thought rambling." Her eyes warmed to the color of hot cocoa. "So does this mean I get to eat real food again? I missed Emma's mashed potatoes like you wouldn't believe." 

"Just because you and I were on the outs didn't mean you couldn't get her to cook for you. Right now, you're her favorite sister." Alex relaxed, and her smile was genuine. "I really want us to work. But I'm still having a lot of trouble opening up. That's not your problem, it's mine. Are you sure you want to wait around for my neurotic ass?" 

"As long as you keep trying, I'll keep trying," Olivia volunteered. "Emma's really worried, you know." 

"I know. I talked to her on Friday, though, explained as best I could, and apologized. I'll talk to her more in-depth later." Alex took another sip of her coffee, watching Olivia's slender fingers toy with her own cup. "Are we okay?" 

Olivia tested out a genuine smile of happiness. _Still fits._ "Yeah," she replied softly. "We're okay." 

"Good." Alex squeezed Olivia's hand briefly. "I guess we should get back." 

"Probably." The detective's eyes were filled with a hunger she'd been reining in for over a month. "Can I - can we get together tonight?" 

Alex pondered the thought for all of thirty milliseconds before nodding. "Emma's making ziti. Maybe we can steal some." 

* * *  
  


"Allie!" Emma bellowed, carefully removing the aluminum foil from the top of her ziti pan. "Alexandra!" When her sister didn't reply, Emma left her dish on the counter and raced for the door, pausing briefly enough to open it. She raced back to the kitchen, calling over her shoulder. "Sorry about that, Olivia. I don't know where that God-awful sister of mine is. She was on door duty and then she disappeared." 

"She's probably hoarding garlic bread," Olivia replied easily, stepping into the apartment and closing the door. She hung her coat on the rack, inhaling deeply. "Oh, Emma, how I've missed you," she sing-songed. "You, and your little ziti, too." Turning the corner into the kitchen, Olivia wrapped an arm around Emma's waist, hugging her tightly. 

Emma giggled, then shooed Olivia away for the moment. "This has to go back in the oven for a couple of minutes. Careful, it's hot." She maneuvered around the kitchen, putting the tray back in the oven. She started searching her cupboards, cursing the new, unfamiliar apartment layout. "You want something to drink?" 

"Yeah. You have Merlot?" Olivia asked, peering into a cabinet in search of wine glasses. 

Emma pointed to the cabinet next to the refrigerator. "Apparently you and I haven't met. I'm Alexandra 'I only drink red wine' Cabot's sister. Check the cabinet underneath the sink; there should be a new bottle there." 

"Thanks." Olivia went in search of the wine, returning with a fresh bottle and the corkscrew. She opened the wine and set it aside to breathe. 

"Okay. Let me go find Allie for you. Can you watch the garlic bread, make sure it doesn't burn?" Emma rinsed off her hands, and dried them on her jeans. 

"Sure." Olivia peered into the oven, her stomach rumbling loudly at the sight of the bread, crispy and golden. 

"Thanks." Emma exited the kitchen and walked the short distance to her bedroom, knocking on the door once before pushing the already ajar door open. She saw her sister, standing, looking at herself in the mirror. Alex was readjusting her black turtleneck and adjusting her low-rise jeans on her hips. "You don't have to seduce her, you know," Emma joked, moving to her closet and finding a nicer sweatshirt than her beat-up Brown University garb.  "She's already in love with you."

Alex turned swiftly, her heart racing as Emma's voice shook her from her reverie. "What?" She shook her head. "I know that. I just want to look halfway decent. I feel grimy." 

"You showered an hour ago. Now, unless you found those videotapes that aren't mine, you should be fine." Emma changed quickly and smiled at her sister. "Go on. Olivia's liable to eat the garlic bread if you don't get out there fast." 

Alex chuckled, putting on her glasses. "Why am I nervous?" 

"Because you're weird," Emma replied. "Go on." 

Alex padded barefoot into the kitchen, stopping to watch Olivia lean against the counter, tilting her head back in taking a sip of wine. Alex cleared her throat and entered the kitchen fully. "Hey." 

Turning fully, Olivia set her glass on the counter. Her heart raced as she saw the familiar gold-rimmed specs that always set it aflutter. "Nice outfit," she commented with a grin. 

Alex shrugged. "I spend most of my evenings in beat up sweatpants and a sweatshirt that saw its best days during the 'Flashdance' era. I felt like looking like a real person tonight." She reached around Olivia and poured herself a glass of wine. "How are you?" 

"Better now," Olivia admitted. "It was a pretty bad day, but being here...I feel better." 

Alex smiled. "I'm glad to hear that." She took another sip of wine, mulling her thoughts. "So, what's new?" 

"Since I talked to you this morning?" Olivia smirked just a little. "Not a whole lot." Her eyes traveled the course of Alex's elegant legs, admiring her snug jeans. Raising her eyes, Olivia met Alex's with a blushing grin. 

Alex readjusted the glasses on her face. "Well, I haven't talked much with you lately, so I figured something might have happened in the interim." 

A shiver ran up Olivia's spine, making her heart skip a beat. "Nope. Nothing new; just work, work and more work." 

The timer on the oven started to buzz, and Alex leaned past Olivia, calling to her sister. "It's making that noise again!" she teased, and Emma's delighted giggle announced her arrival back into the kitchen. 

"It tends to do that when the food is finished cooking," Emma explained slowly, pulling the ziti and the garlic bread out of the oven. "Alex, will you set the table for me?" 

"Yup." Alex grabbed a few plates and headed into the small enclave where Emma had set up a dining area. She had moved out of her and Mark's old apartment, into a smaller one closer to Alex, and the space difference was affecting all of them. 

Emma snuck a piece of the Italian sausage simmering in the pan beside the ziti, offering the Cabot grin at Olivia. "I'm glad you could come over," she said, searching her drawers for a serving spoon. 

"How could I not?" Olivia teased, taking the pan of ziti in potholder-covered hands and escorting it to the table. "Alex promised me food," she chuckled, setting the glass casserole dish on a quilted hot plate. "And she also promised me she wouldn't be cooking it." 

"Sheesh," Alex replied, folding a napkin under the last fork she'd set down, "you two are a tough crowd. You set fire to your stove **once** and you never live it down." 

"It was a classic moment in Alexandra Cabot history," Emma agreed, bringing the garlic bread in from the kitchen. Alex sat down at the small table, waiting as Emma dished out the food, struck by the realization that for the first time in a month, she was actually relaxing. She raised her wine glass. "To you two, for not running as far away from me as you could get." 

Emma raised her own glass with one hand, cutting off a hunk of garlic bread and putting it on Olivia's plate with the other. "To you, for not running anymore." 

"Hear, hear," Alex agreed with a grin. "Hey, why does she get that much bread?" 

"Because I like her better," Emma replied, sitting down and starting on her pasta. 

Laughing softly, Olivia dug into her own dinner, watching Alex with concerned eyes all the while. After a few bites, she leaned back, laying her fork on the rim of her plate. "God, Em, that's incredible." 

Emma grinned, refilling their wine glasses. "I'm just glad I have someone else to cook for!" 

Alex helped herself to a few generous bites of her own, scooping some of the pasta and sauce onto her slice of garlic bread. Juxtaposing that hedonistic action with a dainty wipe of her mouth and a swirling of the Merlot, Alex matched Olivia's posture, raising her eyebrows as she watched the detective look at her. "Do I have cheese hanging from my chin or something?" 

Chuckling, Olivia shook her head. "Nope. Just...soaking it all up." 

Alex nodded warily. "Okay then." 

Emma chuckled at seeing the two of them together again, and was glad the ice cap on their relationship had begun to melt. "Hey, I got some good news today from Homicide. There's not enough evidence to warrant a murder charge in Mark's death, so they're closing it as self-defense." 

Olivia met Emma's eyes with a solemn smile. Raising her wineglass, she toasted, "To justice." 

Emma grinned and raised her glass, noting the pause her sister took in doing the same. "I was pretty stoked. Any word from IAB for you?" 

"Yeah." Olivia glanced uncomfortably between the sisters. "Uh...they recommended a psych evaluation but no punitive measures. The investigation's been Administratively Closed, which basically means that since there's no one to complain on Mark's behalf and they have no evidence of premeditation on my part, they had to give up." 

"All right," Emma enthused, looking to Alex's encouraging nod. "So, I couldn't decide what to do for dessert. I have cannoli and tiramisu. I know Alex wants the latter; what do you want, Liv? I just need to thaw them a little bit." 

"Cannoli sounds great, but I don't know if I'll have room," Olivia said, eyeing her empty plate. 

"That's why God invented Tupperware," Emma pointed out, clearing their plates. "Al, you still working?" 

Alex nodded. "I'm not the great Hoovers you two are." 

"I resemble that remark," Emma teased, moving back into the kitchen. 

Alex took a few more bites of her dinner and looked at Olivia. "That's good about IAB. I was worried they wouldn't drop it." 

"Yeah, they didn't have much to go on." _We didn't leave them any evidence to work with,_ she corrected mentally. "Mark was a sociopath, and he wouldn't have stopped until Emma was dead. We had no choice." 

"I'm not disagreeing," Alex said. "It just acts as more impetus for all of us to put this behind us, to start over with a clean slate." 

Shrugging slightly, Olivia chose her words carefully. "I don't think we ever have a clean slate, Alex. We just move on and deal with the past as it comes back into view every once in a while." She had no idea how precipitous her words actually were. 

Alex nodded, placing her fork on the edge of her plate. "Well, stuff me with breadcrumbs and call me Butterball. I haven't eaten that much in ages." 

"I heard that!" Emma exclaimed, coming back into the dining room. "That's my line. Don't I get commission or something?" 

"Let me think about that. Uh, no." Alex replied, pushing her chair back and heading towards the kitchen. Emma deftly swiped the plate out of her hands. "New apartment, old rules. You are not allowed in the kitchen unless supervised by three adults, two of whom should have weapons of some kind. So go relax on the couch or something." 

"I can clear my own plate, thanks," Alex replied, reaching for the dish. 

"Don't make me sic Olivia on you," Emma warned, moving back into the kitchen. 

Alex shook her head, looking down at Olivia. "Did she get more annoying in the past month?" 

"Yup. I think it's a reaction to the Prozac," Olivia joked, reaching for her refilled wineglass. "Why don't we just do what she says?" she suggested. "It's easier than trying to reason with the child." 

Alex shrugged. "Sounds good to me." She walked the short distance to Emma's plush couch, sinking into the leather easily. "It's surprising how, even after spending many nights on different kinds of couches, I don't get sick of them." 

"That could be really kinky if I thought about it just right," Olivia chuckled, claiming the seat next to Alex. 

It took Alex a moment to understand the reference, but when she did, she giggled, quite amused. "Well, thanks for the great amount of trust in me, Detective Benson. It's really encouraging." 

Olivia took another sip of wine, then leaned over and set her glass on the coffee table. "So how've you been?" she asked seriously. "I mean...I know how...it's getting better?" she finished quietly.

"I feel better," Alex answered, pulling her knees underneath her body. "Immediately after the whole thing, I just wanted to curl up and pretend it never happened. That made me pull away from everyone who reminded me of him - including you and Emma. But talking with Don has really helped, especially in that it's made me want the normalcy again. Last week, I wouldn't have been here. But now, I want to be. So yeah, it's getting better." 

"Good." Olivia reached out instinctively, running her fingers over the strands of blonde hair brushing Alex's cheek. "I was really starting to worry about you, but I wasn't sure how to get through," the detective admitted. "You seemed like you needed space…" 

"I think I convinced myself that I did need that much space," Alex replied, nuzzling Olivia's hand, "and I think that had you pressed, I would have pushed you even further away and done irreparable damage." She shook her head, placing her hand on Olivia's knee. "It's done, though, and I'm bouncing back." 

Inhaling deeply, Olivia nodded, her eyes gentle. "You're back," she agreed, hoping she was right in saying that, in so many ways. "You're not as jumpy," the detective noticed, "when I touch you, I mean." 

"It still surprises me a bit," Alex replied, leaning further against the couch, "but, as Don said, I know you won't hurt me, so there's no reason to fear the physical contact." 

"Never," Olivia said softly, her heart pounding at the simple physical contact she'd missed so much in the few weeks they'd spend without time alone together. "Do you think you're ready to start spending more time with me?" 

Alex nodded. "I think so. I mean, I don't know if I can jump right back in; three days hasn't really been enough to completely turn me around. But if you still want to, I would love to." 

"Of course I want to." Olivia's tone was gently reproachful. "Didn't we cover this over coffee this morning?" 

Alex chuckled, squeezing Olivia's knee. "Forgive me. My short-term memory's not what it used to be." 

"That's true," Emma added, bringing in two Tupperware containers and setting one each in front of her sister and Olivia. 

"What's true?" Alex teased, and Emma rolled her eyes. 

"You know, it's past nine, Alex. Shouldn't you be in bed?" 

"I don't go to bed at nine," Alex protested. "Nine-thirty, maybe." 

"You mind if I monopolize your sister until bedtime?" Olivia asked Emma, not moving her hand from where it had fallen on Alex's shoulder. "We have a lot to talk about." 

Emma shook her head. "Hey, if you want to spend more time with her, that's your poison, not mine." She rose, avoiding Alex's swinging arm, poised to smack her upside the head, and kissed Olivia on the cheek. "I'm going to go sketch in my bedroom, maybe watch a little 'Raymond'. Holler when you're on your way out." 

"Okay. Thanks for dinner, Em," Olivia called after her. 

"Anytime," Emma replied, shutting the door behind her. 

Alex shook her head. "That child is incorrigible." 

Olivia grinned. "She's a breath of fresh air and you know it." 

"Look at you, encouraging her. Shame on you, Detective Benson, for allowing a nuisance to society to remain on the streets." Alex grinned, readjusting her head on a throw pillow. 

"She's not dangerous to anybody but herself." Olivia's grin could've lit Manhattan. Finally, she was back in the place where she'd felt more comfortable than any place in her nearly-forty year history: the Cabot family insanity. 

"Yeah, she's all right." Alex glanced to the back of the apartment and Emma's shut door; her childish giggles skittered across the wood floors. Alex turned back to Olivia, eyes lowered in deference to the encroaching fatigue. "So what do we need to talk about?" 

Olivia smiled at Alex's exhaustion, running her hand over one of the blonde's soft cheeks. "Nothing specific. I just wanted to get you alone." 

Alex chuckled. "You could probably have just told her to beat it, and she would have listened. She only listens to you; have you noticed that?" 

"It's a gift. My mother always told me I should work with kids." Olivia scooted closer to Alex, resting her free hand on Alex's hip. 

"I could see that. You're very good with them. Especially the annoying thirty-year-old ones." Alex smiled, sitting up partway. 

"She only annoys you 'cause she's your sister," Olivia defended Emma. "Other people find her charming and effusive. I mean, those other people are mental patients, but so what?" 

Alex's laughter echoed her sister's. "She's a good kid. And she'll always be a kid to me, no matter how old and wrinkly she gets. The beauty of sisterhood, I suppose." 

Olivia's grin widened as Alex laughed. "I guess so," she agreed easily. "Hey, Alex?" 

"Hm?" 

"Would it be okay if I kissed you?" Olivia didn't recognize her own voice. 

Alex's shy smile held touches of her appreciation towards Olivia. She nodded, leaning in closer. "I would like that very much." 

"Just push me away if you, you know, get scared or anything, okay?" Olivia murmured, lowering her lips slowly to Alex's. 

Alex closed the distance between them and kissed Olivia gently. Their mouths fused perfectly together, despite the month of distance between them. They hadn't been together physically since before Mark kidnapped her. The kiss was soft and undemanding, much like Olivia herself, and Alex sat straight up on the couch, cupping Olivia's cheek. 

Sliding her arms around Alex's waist, Olivia was careful not to move too fast or press too hard. Her fingers splayed tenderly on Alex's back, holding her gently against the detective. 

Alex wrapped her arms around Olivia's neck, running her tongue over Olivia's bottom lip swiftly. Her fingers played with the ends of Olivia's hair, her touch deft and gentle. 

Moaning softly against Alex's mouth, Olivia deepened the kiss. "I missed you so much," she said quietly, when they broke for air. 

Massaging Olivia's shoulders, Alex offered a slight smile. "I missed you, too," she replied, inching her knee closer to Olivia's so that they rested completely against one another. Part of her wanted to push Olivia down on the couch, driven by an ache to hold and be held, but something still held her back. Instead, she sat knee to knee with the brunette, leaning in and kissing her again. 

This time, Olivia let Alex guide their kissing, her hands rubbing the blonde's back in small circles. 

They sat, making out like teenagers, on her little sister's couch for a good amount of time; she wasn't quite sure how much. Instead, as Alex pulled away to catch her breath, she felt the flush in her cheeks, and noticed that at some point, her left leg had slung itself over Olivia's right, and her hand laid under Olivia's sweater, resting comfortably on the small of her back. "God," Alex breathed. "I forgot what it was like to kiss you."

"I never forgot," Olivia countered, nestling her lips on the hollow of Alex's throat. "You don't forget a Cabot," she murmured with a grin.

Alex leaned back, eyeing Olivia. She scooted partly away, closing her eyes. "Mark said that," she said, her tone deadened. "He said that the first time you interviewed him, when Emma was missing." 

A rush of regret flooded Olivia, and she reached out, resting her hand on Alex's leg. "Oh, God, I'm sorry. I didn't—I thought **Emma** said that. Honey...Alex..." 

Alex got up from the couch, walking around the back. His face slithered into her head, and she shook it violently. Looking down at Olivia, Alex shook her head once more. "I'm sorry. I don't know why I'm reacting like this." She curled her hands into fists and knocked them together, trying to relieve the PTSD symptoms rushing through her body. She took a few deep breaths, focusing on a picture of herself, Olivia and Emma that hung across the room. 

"Alex?" Olivia stood and crossed to Alex, standing a foot behind her. "It's okay." Something deep inside the detective recognized the symptoms of a post-traumatic stress episode from the victims she'd dealt with over the years. "It's just me...just Liv. He's not here." She wouldn't say Mark's name, for fear of sparking a fresh nightmare in Alex's tender psyche. "He's dead. He can't hurt you. Emma and I are here; you're safe." 

"I know," Alex answered after a minute, sitting on the arm of the couch. "It just...threw me for a loop. I don't remember much about that day, but what I do remember...it plays like a bad movie over and over again if the suggestion is introduced." She ducked her head, trying to regain her composure. "This is the first time I've reacted like this with people in the same room." 

"It's okay," Olivia assured her, crouching down in front of Alex. "You don't have to hide it. I'm sorry, though. I didn't mean to make you remember." 

"It's all right. It was an honest mistake." Alex took a few deep breaths and raised her head, setting her shoulders. "Okay. I'm okay." 

"You sure?" 

Alex nodded. "Yeah." She leaned down and kissed Olivia lightly. "Thanks." 

Olivia stood, shrugging. "I didn't do anything," she protested. 

"Whatever happened to just saying 'You're welcome'?" Alex chided, rising as well, and lacing her arm around Olivia's waist. "You know I normally don't apologize all that much; you should bask in its glory while it lasts." 

"Fine, fine," Olivia allowed herself a smile, holding Alex loosely. "You win; you're welcome." Glancing at the clock in the kitchen, she sighed. "It's getting late. I should probably head home." 

"Yeah. Would...would you mind walking me home?" Alex was reaching out as best she could, under the circumstances. 

"But you live in the opposite..." Olivia trailed off, recognizing the request for what it was. "Of course," she corrected herself. "Let's just say bye to Em." 

"Thanks. Emma Kate!" Alex called towards the back of the apartment, and Emma appeared a minute later, her own glasses on and hair held up by two paint brushes. "You two heading out?"

Alex nodded. "I'm just going to use the facilities, and then we'll get out of your hair." 

"At least you won't poke the back of my head like these damn things," Emma replied, pulling out the brushes, and letting her blonde tresses brush against her shoulder. Alex excused herself and went past her into the bedroom. Emma watched her go, and turned to Olivia. "Everything okay?" 

"Seems like it," Olivia said with a faint smile in the direction Alex had gone. "I think we're gonna be okay." 

"Good." Emma treaded into the living room and hedged slightly before continuing. "Can I say something, Liv?" 

Turning her full attention to Emma, Olivia grinned broadly. "When haven't you, child?" 

Emma thought hard. "Well, never." Her face became serious before she continued. "My first boyfriend - before He Who Shall Not Be Named - was this guy I met my freshman year of college. Danny was the nicest, sweetest thing, and we had a great time together. Obviously, he wanted those great times to include sex, but after Peter, there was no way Danny could even hold my hand without me jumping a mile. I eventually warmed up to the idea, but it took almost a year. I don't think it'll be that severe with Allie, but it's something to expect and consider. I've been where she is, and I know how she feels. She wants to show you how much she loves you, but that violation will hold her back for a while. I know you know this, but it's part of the sisterly pact that I warn you." 

Olivia nodded solemnly. "Thanks," she said sincerely. "I appreciate the information, on both our behalfs." She smiled warmly. "I have no intention of pushing Alex into anything, but that'll give me a tactile reminder in case I start to feel like she's holding back." 

"No problem," Emma replied with a smile, hugging Alex as her sister emerged from the bathroom. "Give me a call later in the week, okay?" 

Alex nodded. "Yup. Thanks for dinner." 

"My pleasure, you know that." Emma walked Alex and Olivia out, hugging the detective. "Good luck," she whispered. 

* * *

"Alexandra Cabot?" 

Alex turned in the hallway outside Petrovsky's courtroom, facing a tall black man. "Yes?" she asked, trying to place him. 

"I'm Joel Walters, ABC-7 news. I wanted to get a comment from you, on the record." 

"About?" Alex narrowed her eyes, confused. 

"How do you feel about Caroline Cabot-Whitney alleging a lesbian relationship between yourself and Detective Olivia Benson? Additionally, what do you think about the fact she's suing the NYPD, Detective Benson, and your sister, Emma, on behalf of Mark Miller's estate?" 

Alex took a step backwards from his tape recorder. "First of all, I have not been informed of any lawsuit, so I can't comment on that. On the second point, Caroline and I haven't seen each other in close to two years, and didn't speak for ten years prior to that. So take anything she alleges with a grain of salt. I'm sorry I can't comment further. Thanks." Alex turned on her heel, striding out, head held high, even as her heart threatened to leap out of her chest. She made her way to the SVU bullpen, searching for Olivia. 

"Hey," Olivia said with an easy smile, which faded as soon as she got a good look at Alex's face. "What's wrong? Is it Emma?" 

Alex shook her head. "Have you received a summons or a subpoena? Any calls from a reporter?" 

"No, why?" Olivia pressed. "What's going on?" 

Alex leaned across her desk, lowering her voice. "I just got stopped outside of Petrovsky's courtroom. Apparently, Caroline is suing you and the NYPD on behalf of Mark's estate. Furthermore, she's 'alleging' a romantic relationship between you and me." 

Her eyes widened and Olivia had to force herself not to gasp aloud. "How...where'd she come up with this?" 

Alex shook her head. "I haven't the faintest idea. Neither Emma nor I have had any contact with her since the sentencing." 

Alex turned as Cragen's voice called out to them. "Benson, Cabot. In my office, now." 

Alex strode easily to Don's office, and he waited to speak until after Olivia had shut the door carefully behind them. "I just got a call from Olivia's union rep and OPP. Have you heard about Caroline?" 

"Bits and pieces. I was accosted outside court this morning. What is it?" 

Cragen sighed, running a hand over his bald head. "I don't know, exactly. OPP warned Olivia would be served this afternoon. But from what I understand, Mark gave Caroline power of attorney years ago, before he ever married Emma, and he never changed it. So when Caroline heard of the circumstances surrounding Mark's death, she launched her own inquiry. She's petitioning for wrongful death." 

"How would she have known the circumstances?" Alex pressed. "We had him cremated the next day. There was no formal autopsy, no paperwork. We cleaned it up." 

"Maybe that triggered her interest. You Cabots always loved mysteries." Cragen shrugged. "I'll try and do as much damage control as I can from here, but you two need to be very, very careful." 

Olivia sighed, cursing under her breath. "Cap, listen, if this - us - gets out," she said, gesturing toward Alex with the first verbal admission of their relationship, "I'm not gonna ask any of you to defend me. I got myself into this, an' I'll take the blame for it." 

"You most certainly will not," Cragen barked, surprising both himself and Alexandra. "You shot a man who was a threat. We do that every day, without preamble and without punishment. I know as well as you do that he would have killed both of them. Besides, if you go down for this, we all do. I covered it up; I knew damn well that Emma lured him there, and that you protected her. Now I'm protecting you, because I believe what you did was right. Don't argue about defense with me, Benson," he warned. "On the other matter, it's nobody's damn business but your own. And Emma's, because apparently everything's her business." He rubbed the back of his neck - had he picked that up from Alex, or vice versa? "On that front, the police department's like the military. You don't tell, and we can't ask. OPP's gonna cover you on this one; it'd look a hell of a lot worse if they were slapped with a discrimination suit and lost millions to Caroline too." 

"I'm not gonna sue them!" Olivia said, her forehead furrowing with frustration. "But I'm sure as hell not letting Elliot and all of you go down for my private life." 

"Our private life, thank you very much," Alex replied. "And if you won't sue them, I sure as hell will." She put her hands on her hips and looked between the two cops. "The first thing we have to figure out is where Caroline's getting her information. We sealed those records tighter than juvy files. No details were ever released." 

"You're thinking a mole?" Cragen nodded as he pondered the idea. "It could work." 

"Who did you talk to about Mark's death, Liv?" Alex brushed her hand against Olivia's in support. 

Sliding her hand into Alex's, Olivia couldn't help but admire her spunk. "Huang," she said immediately, "but that's protected by therapist-patient confidentiality. The IAB guy was the only other person." 

"Who was the IAB investigator?" Cragen asked immediately. 

"Sims," Olivia replied. "He investigated me on the Plummer shooting, too," she added, suspicion clouding her eyes. "I thought he had out it for me then, but he cleared me, so..." 

"That one was more cut and dry. My sister didn't call you and tell you she was about to commit premeditated murder." Alex sighed and rubbed her forehead. "Don, can you find out if Sims leaked the transcripts of the hearings somehow?" 

Cragen nodded. "I'll do my best." 

"We'll know more once you're served," Alex turned fully to Olivia. "'Till then, we're denying?" 

"You're the lawyer," Olivia said with a worried expression. "I'm doin' whatever you tell me to for now." 

"We have no comment on our personal lives, but no, we are not romantically involved," Alex finally decided, squeezing Olivia's hand discreetly in solidarity. "If Sims did leak the IAB transcripts, Caroline can't do much damage. Stolen, private documents are inadmissible. But she's trying to play the PR game, trying to rattle our cages. We won't let her," Alex said with conviction. "But we do have to be careful. She's not above hiring a photographer or six to try and catch us in the act." 

Shaking her head, Olivia's stomach roiled at the idea of lying about who she was - and who she loved. The detective started to protest, but was silenced by matching glares from Cragen and Alex. "All right," she acquiesced unhappily. "But only 'cause I wanna see the look on Caroline's face when you blow her ass outta the water." 

Alex chuckled, turning to Cragen. "Don, can you give us a second?" 

Cragen paused, but nodded, leaving silently. Alex made sure the blinds to his office were closed before she encompassed Olivia in a hug. "I'm sorry," she whispered. 

"It's not your fault," Olivia said, holding Alex against her gently. "But listen," she added, leaning back slightly to look her girlfriend in the eye, "when you were in the hospital, I told you I was ready for more of a commitment. That means now, Alex. If it comes down to a choice between my job and you, there's no question in my mind." Her tone left no room for debate. "I'm not letting you flush your career, no matter what happens," the detective finished with a teasing grin. "Someone needs to support Emma in the lifestyle to which she wants to become accustomed, and I can't do it on a cop's salary." 

Alex laughed, despite the situation. "It's not coming to that," she vowed. "We keep our jobs, we keep each other. There's no other way." She stepped back, extending her hand. "Deal?" 

"If you say so." Olivia shook her hand with a smile. 

"I do. Let's get Cragen to work on figuring out if Sims is our mole. I'm gonna go back to my office, see if I can figure out how intricate Caroline's dealings with Mark actually were." Alex opened the door and saw a worried Emma, obviously straight from her doctorate art seminar, covered in paint, with messy hair and a saddle bag. Alex approached her, and saw her sister's eyes were wild. "What's going on, Allie? Some reporter found me at school, started asking questions about Mark and you and Olivia." 

"Caroline's up to something," Alex said. "Nothing to worry about." 

"I wouldn't be so sure," a slithering voice crept behind them, stopping short. Emma, Alex and Cragen turned to face Caroline Cabot-Whitney. "I need to find Detective Olivia Benson, please." 

Emma shook her head. "Over my dead body, Carrie. Step back." 

"Very funny.  Is that what you said to Mark before Detective Benson shot him dead?" Caroline pinned her baby sister with a smug gaze. "Produce Detective Benson now, Captain Cragen," the eldest Cabot glared at the one face she recognized, "or I'll add an interference charge to the lawsuit." 

Before Cragen could speak, Olivia stepped forward. "I'm Detective Benson." _You crazy bitch,_ she added mentally. 

"Detective Benson, as representative of the estate of Mark Miller, I am serving you with notification of a civil lawsuit that has been filed in superior court, indicating you were the cause of the wrongful death of Mr. Miller on August 30th of this year. A member of my staff will be contacting you for your deposition. Consider yourself served." Caroline picked up her attaché and nodded. "Good day." 

"Do they say 'consider yourself served' in real life anymore?" Emma called after her sister, who was striding out of the desk area. Emma ran after her, her long legs catching up to and surpassing Caroline easily. Emma stood directly in her path, and the estranged sisters stood nose to nose. "Tell me one more time, Carrie," Emma whispered. "Tell me why you're doing this to my sister." 

"Alexandra isn't involved in this," Caroline responded primly, shooting her a bored look. 

"I'm not talking about Alex. I'm talking about my other sister. The sister who stood by me, cared for me, held me when I was scared and alone. The one who helped me up when I was down, not the one who kicked me instead. I'm talking about Olivia, who has been a better sister to me than you could ever hope to be. Tell me, Carrie. Why?" Emma's teeth were clenched, and her hands were wrapped around the burlap of her bag. 

"It's simple, Emma. It's about justice." Caroline brushed past her, heading out towards the double doors. "Oh, I nearly forgot." She turned back, reaching into her bag again. "Emma Cabot Miller, you are being named as a co-defendant in a civil suit filed in superior court, regarding the wrongful death of Mark Miller on August 30th of this year." She extended her hand, a grin on her face. "Consider yourself served." 

"Over my dead body." Alex intercepted the summons, snatching it from Caroline's hand and throwing it to the floor. "Come near her and I'll destroy you." 

"Tsk, tsk, ADA Cabot. Threatening a fellow attorney? What will the Ethics Committee think?" 

"Screw you, Caroline," Alex seethed, sending her older sister barreling back with a swift crack of her knuckles to Caroline's jaw. As Caroline lay on the floor, cupping her bruised chin, she looked up and saw two very angry Cabot sisters. 

"Pour that on your justice and stuff it," Emma said. "Get out." 

"Gladly. Where can I file an assault complaint in this precinct?" Caroline stood, watching the detectives watch her. 

"Third floor," Cragen replied. "Although, none of us really saw anything." 

Caroline chuckled, wincing in pain. "I'm sure." She turned and left, more determined than ever. 

The determination was an obvious family trait. Emma turned to Alex, concerned. "How's your hand?" 

"Fine," Alex replied, her eyes never wavering from the traitor's back. "Let's get to work."

THE END


	11. Sacrifice

They didn't realize it, but they both went there for the same reason: to make promises. 

The threat of winter hung over the cold ground as the woman trudged up the hill to where he lay, and where another was running her fingers over the stone protecting him. 

The woman stopped at the edge of the plot, watching another woman's long fingers scrape over the marble, trying to get in. She was trying to disturb him again, just has she had continually disturbed him in life. The woman shook her head and continued her path through the cemetery, stopping behind the intruder. 

"Can't you leave him in peace, Emma?" 

Emma didn't turn, instead rapping her knuckles against the marble encasing holding the ashes of her late husband. "Why should I, Caroline? He never let me have any peace. Why does he get that luxury?" 

Caroline crossed her arms, admiring how her leather gloves laid perfectly against the black of her wool coat. "He loved you for years. He took care of you; he helped pay for your Master's degree. Don't you remember what it was like on your wedding day? How happy you were?" 

Emma turned then, an incredulous smile on her face. "You weren't there. How would you know how happy his lies made me? He used me, tortured me. He didn't love me. Not truly, not purely. He lied to you, too - his entire life was an act. I'm sorry he got you caught up in this." 

"He didn't get me caught up in this, Emma. You did. This is all your fault; don't you see that? You lured him there to kill him. You got Olivia involved because you knew she would protect you. She shot him, Emma, but you killed him. And now you have to pay." Caroline's voice was icy and unforgiving. 

Emma shook her head. "Where do you come up with this stuff? You have no evidence to support any of this, Agent Mulder, so just shut up, okay? Leave it alone." 

"You should have followed in the Cabot tradition and become a lawyer, Emma, because then you'd know what I was about to tell you. But you never were much good at school, were you?" Caroline took a step closer, and Emma saw the same determined glare Alex had perfected years earlier. "In a civil suit, the burden is on the defendant. You have to prove, with a preponderance of the evidence, that you weren't responsible for the circumstances that led to Mark's death. And you were, Emma. You know it, I know it, and a jury's going to know it soon enough. I'm doing this to get you to pay for taking a man's life. If I take down Olivia and Alexandra with you, all the better." 

Emma met her advances, standing toe to toe with the traitorous one. "You leave them out of this. This is between you and me." 

Caroline cocked her head, interested. "Why, Emma Katherine, are you trying to protect the good detective and the ADA from bad press?" 

Emma threw up her hands. "Why do I even bother with you? Look, whatever 'evidence' you think you have will be thrown out, once it's proven someone stole it and gave it to you. Don't think we don't have your game plan." 

"Then I'll just have to come up with another one," Caroline replied. "See you in court." 

Emma pushed past her, heading back to her car, hot, angry tears streaming down her somnolent face. 

Caroline watched her go, and then ran her fingers over the stone covering Mark's urn. "Hey, buddy," she said quietly, removing a leaf from the top of the plot. "I'm sorry I couldn't stop them. But I'm still fighting for you. I just wanted you to know that." As the wintry mix swirled around her, Caroline thought back to a favorite song of her daughter's, where the artist begs someone to come take her home during a damn cold night. Mark's entire life had been that damn cold night; everyone he had trusted, from Peter to Emma, to Caroline herself, had betrayed him. When he had come to Atlanta looking for work, he sought out Caroline, hoping she was the last remaining Cabot who had a heart. She took him in gladly, and he worked hard for her. She considered him part of the family, and he had told her time and again that it was her consideration, her love that gave him enough strength to go back to New York and face Emma, confront her with what she had done to him. It had been a crowning achievement in Caroline's life, helping someone from the depths of despair, as Mark had been upon his arrival to Atlanta. He was so far gone that he'd changed his name, tried to start anew. Instead, Caroline helped him find his true self, and she'd sent him back a new, determined man, prepared to fight her selfish little sister. Now, she would continue his fight, in his honor and memory. She pushed away all thoughts of Peter's trial, when she had tried to save her stepfather by blaming Mark.  It hadn't worked, and she was secretly glad; it would've been too much to see Mark punished along with Peter. Caroline brushed her hand over the marble again, a loving smile on her face.  "I'm with you." 

* * *

"Explain it to me in plain English, Alex," Emma begged, removing her glasses and throwing them on the legal pad that sat next to her elbow. 

"Her argument is that she has documents stating you and Olivia were responsible for Mark's death, that it was you who put him in the circumstances under which he died," Alex replied, taking a quick bite of the lo mein they'd ordered into her conference room. She washed it down with her soda, returning to the photocopied summons. 

"She said as much at the cemetery." Emma agreed. "But what documents would she have?" 

"Other than the IAB and Homicide investigative files, I can't think of anything." Alex stood, pacing around the conference room. 

"She can't get far on stolen, confidential files, can she?" Emma asked, looking between her lawyer and Alexandra. 

"No," Alex replied. "But this isn't about monetary damages. She's playing it up for the press." 

"Like we did to Kelleher," Emma replied, rubbing the bridge of her nose. "She's fighting our fight, because she knows we can't argue as loudly as we want to, for fear of outing you and Liv." 

Alex sat back down and pushed the Chinese food away. She tilted her head back against the swivel chair, sighing loudly. "Why couldn't we have had a normal family?" 

Emma chuckled, turning her head to face Erin, their old friend and feisty attorney. "Do we have a game plan for the press, Ms. Jacobs? They've staked out our apartments; I'm waiting for them to start calling it Emmagate or something." 

"Cabotgate," Erin corrected, matching Emma's chuckle softly. "I know it's hard, but I think our best defense for now is no defense at all. You three," she indicated Emma and Alex, and Olivia by extension, with a wave of her hand, "have no comment. I'll reference the confidentiality of any papers related to the IAB and Homicide investigations, and anything else…" She paused, eyeing Alex thoughtfully. "Well, let's just stick with 'No Comment'. If, for any reason, these papers are made public, you need to be able to turn this back around and show that you never lied about your relationship with Olivia – you just didn't feel the need to announce it. 'Kay?" Her simple request for approval showed deference to Alex's experience in the criminal justice system, belying her own, more extensive, history with civil defense. 

"Sounds good," Alex agreed, finishing off her soda. 

Emma rose from her seat and crossed to the window, looking out at the darkening night. "What a mess I've made," she said quietly, running a finger down the cold glass. 

"You didn't do anything wrong," Alex amended, joining her sister at the window. She wrapped strong arms around Emma's waist, resting her chin on her sister's shoulder. 

"Let's cut the crap, Alex. We all know I'm guilty of murdering him. I set him up. I 'hired' Olivia to finish the job when I couldn't. It was my consent for no formal autopsy, my decision to cremate him so that his body could never be exhumed that covered this up. You can't stand there and tell me that if I were anyone else, you wouldn't have landed my ass in jail a month ago." 

Alex had no immediate reply, knowing that Emma was quite right. "It wasn't my decision not to prosecute you; that came from the DA. The criminal part is behind us; all you're facing now is monetary damages, not jail time. We're going to get through this. I promise you." When Emma was silent, Alex's worry kneaded at her chest. "Emma, what aren't you saying?" 

"I think we should settle," Emma said after a moment. "It'd be easier." 

"Absolutely not." Alex turned her sister around and stared her straight in the face. "You're not admitting anything to anyone, you understand me?" 

"She's going to destroy you!" Emma cried, pursing her lips in frustration. "She's going to destroy you and Olivia. I won't let that happen if I can help it." 

"Don't you think Caroline's already thought of that?" Alex pressed. "If you deal, she's still going to go after Olivia. And even if you put a contingency check in the deal not to release anything about the nature of our relationship, Caroline's just the bitch that would do it." 

Emma looked to Erin for help. "Tell her I'm right." 

"She might have a point," Erin told Alex. "If she did violate the contingency, we could sue for breach of contract and get Emma's money right back. It's risky, but at this point, your career and Olivia's are at stake either way. It's up to you two, I'm just the mouth here." 

"I think it's best, Allie, I really do," Emma stopped arguing as soon as Alex banged her hand on the table. 

"I am **not** losing you to her, do you understand me?" Alex barked. She ran a hand through her hair, taking a deep breath through gritted teeth. "All right, listen. I'm not sacrificing you before she tells us what she wants. If it comes to making a deal, we'll consider it later. But until then, we are a united front against the lies, and we're looking for the truth. This isn't about Caroline, or Mark. This is about justice, get it?" 

Emma shook her head. "I hate it when you're stubborn." 

Alex shrugged. "You should be used to it by now." 

Emma grabbed her coat off the back of her chair. "Thanks for your advice, Er. I'll give you a call tomorrow." 

"Do that." Erin smiled as Emma turned and left, returning her attention to Alex. "Tell me what you really want to do, Alex. I can tell you're not happy with my plan." 

"I'm not happy with any of this shit," Alex replied with a sigh. "I don't know what I want to do. I'm just afraid that if Emma makes a deal, Caroline's going to destroy her even more thoroughly than a trial would. I really don't want to subject her to that. I know Emma was the one who suggested it, but I think it was out of protection more than guilt." 

Having heard Emma's side of the events of August 30th, Erin just shook her head. "You want my take on it?" 

"That's why we hired you," Alex joked with a smile. 

"No, you hired me for my keen fashion sense and witty repartee," Erin teased. "Seriously," she added, "Caroline's going to use whatever you try to do against you. If Emma settles, she's going to proclaim to the world that the Cabots are settling out of guilt over Mark's death. If you fight her at trial, she's going to use every opportunity to repeat the allegations - and at this point, they're all allegations - about you and Olivia, to try to prove that Liv had a good reason to want Mark dead. I think at this point, we have no choice but to keep denying any wrongdoing and keep our mouths shut on the Olivia Benson topic. We have to find out what's driving Caroline, 'cause money sure isn't enough motive for a potential state Senator to drag her own family's name through the mud. I personally think this has your mom's handwriting all over it." Erin cocked an eyebrow at Alex. 

"Jesus," Alex breathed, rubbing her hands over her face. "I didn't even think about it. All right, so we play up the distraught widow and comforting sister part, have no comment on the status of our personal lives, and figure out what the hell Victoria Kelleher has been up to lately." She pulled her coat on, offering a grateful look at her old friend. "You're the best, Erin. Thanks." 

Erin grinned back at Alex. Despite the sobriety of the situation, or perhaps due to it, she felt more inclined than ever to lighten her friend's load. "That's why you're paying me enough to finance Michael's college education," Erin teased, gathering up her coat and bag. "Speaking of my baby boy, they're having some kind of Halloween festival at P.S. 121 and we're all invited. Think we can rope Emma and Olivia into coming?" Before Alex could protest, Erin added, "As your attorney, I can see nothing potentially dangerous about your colleague and personal friend Detective Benson accompanying you to a Halloween party in broad daylight." Grinning, she added, "Just keep your hands outta her candy corn." 

"Erin Elise Jacobs, you did not just say that!" Alex admonished, but burst out laughing nonetheless. She hugged her friend, and they descended into the autumn evening. "Tell Michael we'll all be there," Alex promised. "And thanks again. I'll call you tomorrow, after Emma lets you know everything that happened in the span of twelve hours you were apart." 

"You know my life wouldn't be complete without Emma's three-hour updates on the world at large." Erin's smile was of the thousand-watt variety at the mention of the youngest blonde Cabot. "Talk to you tomorrow." She watched Alex hail a cab, waiting until the ADA was safely on her way before seeking out her Volvo in the parking garage. 

Humming 'Sin Wagon' softly to herself, Erin unlocked the driver's side door and was about to climb in when something on the windshield caught her eye. The piece of paper, folded in two, was just big enough to draw her attention. Grabbing it, she opened the note, expecting 'You're in my parking space, bitch.' What Erin saw made her insides heave. 

_One dyke lawyer defending another.__ Isn't that adorable. Better watch your ass._

* * *

The silence struck Alex as she made her way to Olivia's desk. It was always a contrasting jolt when Alex visited later in the evening, in the downtime between the day and night shifts. As much as she wanted to kiss Olivia's forehead in greeting, Erin's plan stayed at the forefront of her thoughts. Instead, she settled on walking to Olivia's desk normally. "Hey," she said evenly, offering a friendly smile. 

Glancing around discreetly, Olivia murmured, "Hey, gorgeous." Louder, she continued, "How was your day?" 

Alex's smile widened as she perched herself on the edge of her girlfriend's desk. "Fine. How was yours?" 

"Not bad. Collared a perp for ya - the one who raped the ol' lady at Mansion Hills. You'll probably get the paperwork in the morning." Olivia grinned proudly. 

Alex nodded. "Sounds good. Hey, you got a sec to talk about Emma?" 

Nodding, Olivia grabbed her empty coffee cup and stood up. "Always. Come on into the interview room, we can talk privately." 

Alex followed her into the room, scraping the metal chair against the concrete and sitting down. After Olivia had closed the door, Alex took off her gloves, laying them on the table. "Emma and I talked to Erin tonight; she's going to be defending Emma, and you, if you haven't retained anyone else yet. We worked out a strategy for the time being, but Emma's not happy with it. I don't really know what to do." 

Thoughtfully, Olivia addressed the first of Alex's concerns. "Well, as far as Erin goes, I appreciate the offer, but I think it's a conflict of interest. I don't wanna Emma's defense resting on mine, especially if I decide to settle." 

"Are you and Emma drinking the same crazy tea?" Alex shook her head, blue eyes pleading. "Why would you settle?" 

"Because I shot him, Alex." Olivia looked at her as if the ADA were clueless. "And Emma doesn't need to go through anything else. Neither do you." 

"You had to shoot him," Alex reminded her. "He was going to kill her." She sighed, loosening her hair from the clip she'd put it in on the cab ride over. She tilted her head back, letting her hair drape loosely down her back. "Caroline's going to use whatever we do against us. Settling admits guilt, and you don't need that trailing you for the rest of your career. If you even have a career after this. I think we can beat her at her own game." 

"Give me an option and I'm all ears," Olivia said, in a doubtful tone. "But if it's my career versus Emma's sanity, you know which I'm gonna choose." 

"Emma doesn't have any sanity left, you know that," Alex replied, resting her chin against her chest. "I don't have any answers," she finally confessed, closing her eyes. "I don't want her to beat us, and I feel like she might, either way." 

Chuckling softly, Olivia shook her head. Her fingers reached under Alex's chin, tilting the blonde's head up to meet her eyes. "Alex, I can't believe I'm about to be this sappy, so take notes. It won't happen again." The detective cleared her throat softly. "You, Emma and I are a family, something Caroline doesn't know squat about. As long as we're together, she can't beat us. We're the Three Mouseketeers, remember?" Olivia teased Alex with the nickname Emma had given them. 

Alex laughed, kissing Olivia's palm. "You've been sappier," she said. "That wasn't bad." She sighed, popping the tendons in her neck. "All right, let's compromise. We'll answer the primary summons; Erin's going to jump all over the fact that Caroline's best evidence is stolen. If we feel Caroline has more up her sleeve, we'll talk settlement. Does that work for you?"

"Yeah, I can get behind that." Sighing softly, Olivia reached for Alex's hand. "What I can't deal with is being apart from you again. It's driving me crazy." 

"I know," Alex agreed, lacing her fingers with Olivia's. "We just can't take any chances. The press is staked out at Emma's door; my office has been getting dozens of phone calls...I don't want to be fodder for the tabloids, you know? I just want to clean it up quietly and move on with our lives." 

"Are you more scared of losing your job or of being labeled a lesbian?" Olivia asked gently, pulling her hand away. She rose from her seat and started to pace. 

"What?" Alex's eyes widened as she watched Olivia tread the room. "I'm scared of **you** losing everything. I'm not worried about me." 

"And I don't give a shit about my job!" Olivia whirled, meeting Alex's eyes with a chastising grin. "I told you before, your career comes first." 

"Why?" Alex implored, standing and putting her hands on the table. "I am not letting you take the fall for something Emma did, all in the name of protecting me. Your job means everything to you, so don't feed me that crap." 

"No," Olivia corrected, surprised by the admission even as she made it, "you and Emma mean everything to me. And in case you missed hearing it the first dozen times, Emma didn't shoot Mark. **I** did." 

"She set you up!" Alex cried, rubbing her forehead. She took a deep breath, putting her hands on her hips. "I don't want to lose you over this, but I am not sending you into the lion's den. You shot him, but she killed him." 

Meeting Alex's determined glare with one of her own, Olivia shook her head. "The man was a sociopath. I'm not letting Emma take the fall for him. Whether I **choose** to walk into the lion's den," the detective emphasized her choice, "isn't up to you." 

Alex chuckled sarcastically, throwing up her hands. "I don't know why I even try with you two. You do what you want, Olivia. It doesn't really matter what I say." 

Olivia's stony expression softened slightly. "Of course it does," she said quietly. "I just think...well, it doesn't matter right now, does it? We've got a plan, we'll stick to the plan, and we'll reevaluate the plan later if Caroline throws us a curveball." She stepped toward Alex, holding her arms out. "Isn't there any way I can sneak you home with me?" the brunette sighed, knowing the answer before she heard it. 

Alex wrapped her arms around Olivia's waist, spreading her forearms and hands across the expanse of the detective's back. "It's just for a little while," she reminded. "And besides," she said, leaning back with a glint in her eye, "there's no reason we couldn't use our cell phones to call each other. Bell Atlantic only gives those records to police departments. Caroline's good, but she's not that good." 

Laughing softly, Olivia quirked an eyebrow. "Phone sex?" she asked, her words contradicting her childishly excited tone. 

Alex shrugged coyly and separated, pulling on her coat. She winked at Olivia and headed to the door. "Something new. I'll talk to you later." 

"Alex." Olivia's voice stopped the ADA with her hand on the doorknob. "I love you." 

Alex turned halfway, offering a smile. "I love you, too. Bye." She exited through the bullpen and headed home to an empty apartment. 

* * *

"I hate courtrooms," Emma announced as they lingered outside civil court a week later. She and Alex were waiting for Erin and Olivia to arrive, and Emma busied herself by readjusting her suit jacket and offering blather-type comments. 

"It'll be over soon," Alex promised, her voice hollow. It wasn't like her to be worried about starting a new trial, but it obviously wasn't every day that her lover and sister were being blamed for the happy demise of the scum of the earth. Alex took a deep breath, ordering herself to maintain her composure. The cameras were trained on them, and had been eating up the story since it broke. None of them really understood why their lives were so interesting, but no one could really explain the New York press anyway. They maintained their stance of innocence and no comment, and both Alex and Emma were waiting to put this behind them. 

Emma nudged her sister's shoulder. "They're here," she said quietly, offering a waved greeting at the approaching women. 

Olivia strode beside Erin, offering Alex what she hoped was a supportive half-smile. Erin had already warned her not to smile too much, for fear of her beaming mug being slingshot to every local affiliate in a fifty-mile radius, with the caption, 'Gloating Cop Defends Kill'. "Hey," she said quietly, reaching over to hug Emma quickly. "How are you doing?" 

"Shitt-ay," Emma drawled, trying to remain upbeat. "Let's get this show on the road." She grasped her sister's hand and headed into the courtroom, Erin and Olivia hot on their backs. Alex sat in the first row, watching as Emma, Olivia and Erin set up at the defense table. Caroline and her co-counsel were already seated, and Alex caught her older sister's eye, trying to understand her motives. What would she get out of defending Mark? Defending him and Peter had caused her to lose her bid for the Georgia senate; why was she perpetuating the cycle? They hadn't been able to find anything tying Victoria to the suit, but Alex still wasn't convinced. She rose as the bailiff ordered, watching as the civil court judge took the bench. 

"Good morning," she greeted. "Okay, looks like we have the estate of Mark Miller versus Emma Cabot Miller and Olivia Benson, charging that the latter co-defendants willingly and unlawfully caused the death of said Mark Miller. Who is our esteemed counsel today?" 

Caroline rose, offering a winning smile. "Caroline Cabot-Whitney for the plaintiff, Your Honor." 

Erin inclined her head toward the judge's bench. "Erin Jacobs for the defense, ma'am." 

"Miss Jacobs, nice to see you again," the judge replied, looking over the file. "This hearing was requested by the defense, challenging that the evidence Miss Whitney plans to incorporate into her suit is negligent. How so, Miss Jacobs?" 

"Your Honor," Erin began, resting her palms flat on the table in front of her, "any allegations that Plaintiff's Counsel puts forth stem from one of two sources of evidence. The first of these is an Internal Affairs Bureau investigation and subsequent report conducted in the death of Mark Miller against Detective Olivia Benson, which, by its very nature, is protected under the confidentiality privileges of the New York City Police Department." She paused, letting her explanation sink in. "The second source is the Homicide Investigation report which cleared the co-defendant, Emma Cabot-Miller, of any premeditated wrongdoing in the self-defense death of her husband, which is also bound by confidentiality, because of the outcome of the investigation. Neither of these sets of documents are admissible in court, Your Honor." 

"She makes a good argument, Miss Whitney," the judge replied, and Caroline rose. 

"Your Honor, the investigation into Mrs. Miller's involvement in her husband's death is now a matter of public record, made so by the Freedom of Information Act," Caroline replied. 

"And the IAB report? How'd you get your hands on that?" The judge was obviously skeptical. 

"It was cleared by a review panel and passed on to me after I requested it, through proper channels," Caroline replied. 

Erin balked at Caroline's tenacity. "Your Honor, there **are** no proper channels to request an IAB report; they are closed and confidential, even within the Police Department. Miss Whitney needs to brush up on her police procedure." 

_Way to go, __Erin__,_ Alex thought, but maintained a professional facade. 

"Round one to Miss Jacobs. The IAB report is out, Miss Whitney. However, the investigative file is in. The latter indicates Mrs. Miller can remain as a defendant; what else do you have to list Detective Benson as such?" The judge looked through the documents provided to her as Caroline looked through her own. 

Caroline sighed internally at the loss, but continued. "Prior to his death, Mr. Miller contacted me via emails and a videotaped message, indicating that Detective Benson had been harassing him, and threatened his life. Since the defendants have made sure Mr. Miller can't tell his side of the story, I would like the videotape to tell it for him." 

Olivia sucked in a breath at the blatant lies Caroline was pouring forth. 

The judge eyed her. "How do I know this isn't a forgery, Miss Whitney?"

"The tape is time-stamped, Your Honor, two weeks prior to Mr. Miller's death, after he was arrested for assaulting his wife. This is the time that Detective Benson threatened Mr. Miller." 

Emma leaned towards Erin. "He knew cameras; he could have easily changed the timestamp." 

Erin nodded, laying a hand on Olivia's to keep her from jumping up and beating Caroline to death in the courtroom. "Okay," she whispered. "I'll bring it up if we can't disprove whatever's on that tape." Standing, Erin said, "Your Honor, I have no objection to this tape being entered into evidence, however, I have not had a chance to review it, and I'd like to request a two-day continuance to do so." 

"I'd like to clear up this matter as soon as possible, Counselor, so if it's all right with you, I'd like to view the tape now. No jury is present, so it won't be unduly prejudicial to either side." She turned to her bailiff. "Procure us a television and a VCR, please, Mr. Smith. We are in recess for ten minutes." She banged her gavel and left the bench. Emma turned to her sister and offered a supportive smile, grabbing Alex's hand as she leaned in to talk to the defense table. "Well, score one for us, right?" Emma asked. "Cooper will dismiss Olivia as a defendant by the end of the day. Pizza and beer as the bet." 

Nodding cautiously, Erin said, "Yeah, I think Olivia's pretty much out of the noose. Congratulations, Detective." 

"Thanks." Olivia should've been relieved, but with Emma as the sole remaining defendant, her anxiety increased tenfold. Caroline was gunning for them, and the loss of one avenue would make her focus all her energy on nailing Emma. "What's this tape? Do either of you know anything about it?" she asked the Cabots. 

Alex shook her head. "I haven't heard about it. Em?" 

Emma shrugged. "I mean, he liked...to videotape us, but that was it, and it only happened once. I really don't know what it could be." 

The bailiff returned and started to set up the television. Judge Cooper returned to the bench moments later, and after an affirmation from the bailiff, she motioned to the tape. "All right, Miss Whitney, let's see what you've got." 

Caroline handed the tape to the bailiff. "This tape was received by my office on August 26th of this year, four days before Mr. Miller's death. The tape was made on August 12th by Mr. Miller in the apartment he formerly shared with his wife." 

"How long is the tape?" Cooper asked. 

"Approximately five minutes, Your Honor," Caroline replied. 

"Go ahead, Bailiff," Cooper ordered, and the tape started. Emma had to look away as Mark's face filled the screen, thankful when Olivia grabbed her hand under the table in support. 

"Carrie," Mark's voice bubbled over with sincere affection. "I know we haven't talked in forever, and this is a lousy way to get in touch with you, but you've gotta do what you've gotta do, right? I know you heard about the shit that's gone down here." Mark's videotaped effigy rolled his eyes in disgust. "Your **sisters**," he fairly spat the word, "think I'm a stalker. As if I'd have to stalk my own wife." His cold laugh was derisive and loathsome. "Anyway, this detective that Alex is dating now - yeah, did you hear she went lesbo? - this chick has it out for me. I'm not saying she's gonna do anything, but just in case I end up in jail and they won't let me make my phone call, I wanted you to have something so you'd know to come bail me out. I don't know what it is with those two," Mark sneered, "they just can't seem to stop persecuting innocent men." 

Olivia seethed silently, swearing mentally. She'd kill Caroline one day, if given the chance, for what she was doing to Alex and Emma. Olivia didn't even need to turn around to see Alex's pale face. She wished, more than anything, that she could slide into the seat next to the ADA and let Alex bury her face in her shoulder and cover her ears, so her emotionally drained girlfriend wouldn't have to listen to the voice of the man who had violated her so thoroughly. For that alone, Caroline should pay, Olivia decided. It was with half an ear that she heard Emma's intake of breath, and she felt her hand gripped tightly in the younger woman's grasp. 

"Oh, shit," Emma breathed. She leaned into Erin, whispering violently. "Erin, it's a forgery! It's a fake, or something." 

"How do you know?" Erin was ready to hear anything that could stop this parade of lies. 

"His hair," Emma said. "I made him a haircut appointment for August 13. He joked with me that he didn't want to go anywhere on Friday the thirteenth, especially if it involved sharp objects. He had really long hair before then, and look at him now." She gestured to the TV screen. "He looks like Matt Lauer in July." 

Nodding, Erin replied in a whisper. "Okay, wait until the tape's done, and we'll address its authenticity. I'm anxious to show Caroline - and Mark - for the sadistic liars they are." 

Emma nodded, leaning back, her hands still linked with Olivia. "It's gonna be okay," she promised. 

Alex, meanwhile, was losing any semblance of control. As Mark continued to trash Olivia on screen, Alex's face and knuckles were a shade of white. She closed her eyes, trying to shut out the memories of her horror.

"All right, Carrie, thanks for your help. I'm dropping this in the mail this afternoon." Mark glanced at his watch, as the tape he'd recorded himself on began to lose its tracking and shimmy. "It's August 12th, 2002, just for the record. Love to Victoria." The screen went black and Olivia squeezed her eyes shut for a moment, trying to forget everything she'd just heard. If Judge Cooper believed any of it, Emma would lose in a heartbeat, and all of their lives would be exposed to public scrutiny. 

"That's the end of the tape, Your Honor," Caroline rose, gesturing to the VCR. "You can turn it off now, bailiff." 

The bailiff stepped across to the VCR and pressed the stop button. The screen remained black as Erin rose to her feet. "Your Honor, my client believes that she has information which is relevant to proving the tape we just viewed is either a forgery or a lie. If it please the court, may she address Your Honor directly?" 

"Your Honor, I don't think—" Caroline was cut off by a swift shake of the judge's head. "You had your turn, Miss Whitney. Mrs. Miller, do you have something to say?" 

Emma rose, her eyes glassy and confused as she looked at the TV screen. "Um, Your Honor, I believe this tape was made after the date Miss Whitney and my dearly departed husband claimed it was made. He went for a haircut on August 13 after not having one for quite some time. But, as you can see in that tape, his hair is quite short, indicating the tape was made after August 12." 

"The timestamp says otherwise, Mrs. Miller," the judge warned. 

"Mark had a vast knowledge of how to work our video camera. He could have easily altered the time stamp to fit whatever his agenda was. Additionally, on August 12, I was still recovering from the trauma he'd inflicted on me; the investigation into that incident hadn't even started yet. There was no way Detective Benson could have been harassing him," Emma replied, a crackle on the TV grabbing her attention again. 

The judge watched Emma closely. "Are you all right?" 

Emma swayed slightly, eyebrows fused together in confusion. "There's...something wrong." 

Alex turned to find Cragen, who had slipped in after the proceedings had started. He made his way from the back of the courtroom to sit behind Emma, George Huang hot on his heels. "Mrs. Miller, do you need a minute?" Judge Cooper was obviously concerned. 

"He taped me," Emma said slowly after a moment, startling the courtroom. "When I was on the boat, he rigged up a camera. Right to the beam; I remember thinking it might fall on me..." she trailed off, jumping visibly as her eldest sister leapt up from the opposite table. "Your Honor, my sister is obviously playing on the sympathy strings of the court. This is unreasonable and prejudicial to the introduction of this evidence." 

Huang stood, raising his voice over the murmurs of the assembled spectators. "Your Honor, may I approach the defendant?" 

"Who are you?" the judge asked, banging on her gavel to quiet the courtroom. 

The murmur quieted to a few whispers as Huang introduced himself. "Dr. George Huang, forensic psychologist. Mrs. Miller's medical records indicate that she has been suffering from post-traumatic stress amnesia for the past two years, making her unable to recall the details of her kidnapping and subsequent torture." Huang approached the defense table as he spoke, stepping through the low swinging gate carefully. "What seems to be happening now is that her late husband's appearance on the tape has triggered some sort of sensory recall." 

"You may approach, Dr. Huang. Mrs. Miller, do you need a minute? Mrs. Miller?" the judge implored, concerned. 

"I'm a Cabot!" Emma cried, stepping back and covering her mouth. "I'm sorry. I just...oh, God." She stared at the tape as it the screen started to move again, her husband's voice filling her ears. And then, a blood curdling scream. 

The bailiff leapt to life, trying to stop the tape. "I thought I pressed stop," he stammered to the judge. 

Cooper banged her gavel until it resounded in the silence. "Miss Whitney, what else is on this tape?" 

Caroline rose. "I have no idea, Your Honor. But I'm sure it's not relevant." 

"I'm not so sure. Keep playing," the judge ordered. She, along with the entire courtroom, audibly inhaled as a naked blonde's bloody, bruised body filled the screen. Emma gasped, grabbing onto the table. Huang held her up for a moment, before he and Erin slid her into a chair. "Turn it off," she begged, "God, please, turn it off." 

As Erin rose to pose that same request, Mark's voice filled the room. "Hey, pretty baby. Not so pretty now, are you?" The camera zoomed in on the broken body, and the building shook with the courtroom's shudder. "Time to wake up, princess." The camera shook as Mark's foot connected with the body beneath him. "Alexandra! Wake up!" 

Emma cried out, covering her mouth. She turned to her exceptionally pale sister, who had gone limp and was now leaning against Donald for support. She clenched her eyes shut, her stomach heaving, threatening to spill out her breakfast. 

Her mind reeling, Olivia's first instinct to grab Alex and haul her out of the courtroom was short-circuited by the sight of Cragen, holding her partner tight to his chest. She turned to the judge, and cried, "Judge, please!" 

"Your Honor, this is—" Erin began, cut off by Mark's howling laughter. 

His hands pawed at Alex's body as he cackled. "God, you're not much fun, are you?" Mark complained, yanking her into a sitting position. "Not like Emma. Now **that** bitch knows how to part-ay." He laughed again, and cocked his hand back. There was an audible crack as his fist connected with her jaw, and Alex cried out involuntarily as her taped self began to scream. 

"All right, that's enough!" Cooper ordered. "Bailiff, turn it off." The bailiff punched the stop button fervently, and turned off the screen. Cooper was silent for a moment. "I want to apologize," she said in a hoarse voice. "We're in recess for an hour." She banged her gavel and retreated, sending waves of disbelief through the gallery. 

Cragen held Alex's shaking body, murmuring into her hair. "It's okay, it's over, honey." He looked up at Olivia, helpless. 

Not caring who saw her or what they'd assume, Olivia darted through the gate and climbed over Cragen's knees to sit on the other side of Alex. "Alex," she said softly, her heart in her throat, "it's Olivia. Look at me, honey?" 

Alex shook her head, trying to get the images and sounds out of her mind. "I need air," she said desperately. "I need to breathe. I can't breathe right now." Cragen backed away and stood, shielding her from prying eyes. "Get back!" he ordered the reporters and cameras. "Give 'em some room." 

Emma joined her sister, hooking her arm through Alex's, and helped Olivia guide her to the back of the building. Once they were protected from prying eyes, Alex broke Olivia and Emma's embraces and walked away, stopping to retch along the side of the stone facade. 

Olivia followed her, laying a hand on her back. "Alex, it's okay," she said again, knowing full well it wasn't, and never would be. 

Alex held her hair back with her right hand, wiping her mouth with her left. "I need a minute, Olivia, okay? Just one minute." She rose and walked down the alley with angry, heavy steps. "**Fuck**!" she screamed, turning back to Olivia and Emma. "Fuck you all." 

Emma stepped forward. "Let it out, Al. Let it all out." 

Alex shook her head as her face crumbled, tears washing away the carefully constructed facade of makeup and strength. "Why?" she asked, holding her arms up to the sky. "Why all this? Does it make any sense to anybody? I mean, he's a sociopath, he uses three sisters and a detective to get off, he fucking **dies**, and he still wins." 

"He only wins if you **let **him," Olivia matched Alex's fire with a flame of her own. "Don't let him." 

"You know, I really don't want to hear any of that right now. I'm sorry, Olivia, I just need to be angry for a minute, okay?" Alex paced the alley, rubbing her temples. "Shit, I'm gonna be sick again."

"You're allowed to be angry," Olivia countered, striding up to Alex. She held out her hands, palms up. "But so am I, dammit. He's wrecking my life as much as either of yours. The two women I love most in the world are hurting, and I can't do anything to fix it, which kills me. I hardly see either of you anymore, and when we **do** talk, we're at each other's throats over the son-of-a-bitch." Olivia couldn't say his name. "You wanna keep being his victim, you go right ahead, Alex, but when you decide to stop letting him hurt you, I'm gonna be here." Her voice softened. 

Alex vomited again, turning away from Olivia. She knelt on the ground, crying. "I need you here," she said after a minute. Emma had to turn away at her sister's searing pain and obvious hopelessness. 

Olivia was at her side almost before Alex had finished speaking. She got down on her knees, slipping her arms around Alex tenderly. "It's okay," she said softly, tears filling up her brown eyes. "I'm here. I'm here." 

Alex wrapped her arms around Olivia's neck, coloring the detective's white shirt with wracking, hitching sobs. She cried for a few minutes, before leaning back. "I'm sorry," she offered, chin still trembling. 

"Stop that," Olivia chided, tender fingers wiping away Alex's tear-streaks as best she could. "Why else would you keep me around if not to use me as a tissue?" she teased lovingly, no hint of a smile on her face. 

Alex did chuckle, expelling a long breath. 

Behind them, Cragen cleared his throat. "The judge would like us to come back a little earlier, dispose of as many matters as possible, if you two are ready." 

Alex nodded. "I think I'm okay." 

"If you're sure," Olivia agreed warily, her voice tinged with concern. 

Alex nodded. "I want to get out of here as soon as possible." She rose, brushing off her pants. "I must look like shit." 

"You look bea—fine," Cragen replied. "If you need a few more..." 

"I'm fine, Don. Really. I want this to be over, and I think the judge understands that. Let's go." 

Olivia stopped Cragen with a hand on his arm, letting Alex and Emma precede them into the courthouse. "Captain," she said, dropping her left hand from his arm and stuffing both her hands in her pockets. "I just..." Olivia kicked at a clod of dirt, taking a deep breath. "I know how hard it is to let go of her. I've tried, and it's damn near impossible. So...for what it's worth...thank you. It would've been really easy for you to make it really hard on me." Olivia met Cragen's eyes for a moment, before turning her attention to the courthouse doors. 

Touched, Cragen couldn't say much. "Thanks, Benson." _Just know that if you hurt her, I have second dibs, after Emma skins you alive._

They walked back into the courtroom in silence. Judge Cooper appeared a few minutes later, and it only took one bang of the gavel to quiet the still-stunned courtroom. "I want to extend my apologies to Miss Cabot for viewing that tape. Not granting Miss Jacobs' continuance request is a decision that will burn in my brain for many years to come. Miss Whitney, I do not believe your statement that you had no prior knowledge of the contents of that tape. The fact that you would bring it in to my courtroom disgusts me beyond all belief. It is inadmissible, and you will be held in contempt for lying about your prior knowledge. Keep your seat; I will hear no objections on this matter. Let me warn you, Miss Whitney: if you try any of that garbage again in my courtroom, contempt charges will be the least of your problems." Cooper cleared her throat, adjusting her glasses. "I find that there is insufficient evidence to list Detective Olivia Benson as a co-defendant in the wrongful death of Mark Miller. Detective Benson, as of right now, you are deemed not liable. You are dismissed, with the thanks and apologies of the court. However, in the case of listing Mrs. Miller, I do find there is sufficient evidence from the homicide investigation into your husband's death to retain you as a defendant in this case. You and your counsel have one week to prepare. The civil portion in the matter of the Estate of Mark Miller versus Emma Cabot-Miller will hear openings on October 30th, 9 AM. I again want to extend my apologies to Miss Cabot and her family. We are adjourned." Cooper banged her gavel, leaving sighs of relief from Emma and Alex trailing behind her. 

Olivia kept her arm around Alex's waist as they stood and prepared to leave. "We've got a week to prove your sociopathic ex-husband deserved to die, Em. Think we can do that?" Olivia chuckled dryly. 

"Bring it on," Emma said, giving Erin a quick hug. She pulled on her coat, watching Caroline watch as they left. The barrage of reporters and cameras hit them as they exited, and by the time the four piled into a cab, Emma's voice was hoarse from saying, "No comment." She gave the driver her address, resting a hand on Alex's knee as the cabbie pulled into traffic. "How are you holding up?" she asked quietly. 

"I'm okay. Glad half of this is over," Alex replied, staring out at the line of cabs and cars in front of them. 

"The rest will be over soon," Emma promised, kicking the back of the front passenger's seat. "Right, Wolf?" She kidded Erin about her law school nickname. 

"Oh, come on. I haven't been The Wolf for ten years." She turned and flashed Emma a toothy grin. "But if you're really desperate, I suppose I can fake it and eatcha." 

"I guarantee it, Errie, I won't fake it if you eat me." Emma burst into giggles, which quickly turned into an "Ow!" as Alex smacked her upside the head. 

Laughing, Erin leaned against the door, turning to face them better. "Girl, you couldn't handle me."

"I don't know," Olivia chimed in, squeezing Alex's shoulders gently, "I think Emma's a little much for most people to handle." 

"I am not!" Emma cried, contorting her face into a pout. "Okay, so maybe I come with a relationship biohazard warning, but I'm not as bad as you make me out to be. Besides, lots of people think I'm cute and sexy. Look, that guy right there," she pointed out the window as they stopped at a red light. "He thinks I'm sexy." 

"He's probably wondering why you're pointing at him and drooling," Alex pointed out, starting to feel her mood lighten slightly. 

"Not if he's ever met her. Emma drools all the time," Erin teased, grinning at the younger woman. "Especially in her sleep. God, I can't count the nights we shared a hotel room and I woke up in a damn puddle." 

"That was **so** Alexandra!" Emma replied, nudging her sister. "You two shared a bed more times than not. Come on, Olivia, back me up. Allie is a drooler!" 

"I'm not commenting," Olivia chuckled, wondering how far she could go without making Alex uncomfortable. "I'd like to have a bed to share in the future." 

"What happened to solidarity, sister?" Emma sighed dramatically, pulling out her purse as the cab stopped in front of her building. She paid the driver, who breathed an audible sigh of relief as the four women exited. Emma slung an arm around her sister's shoulder, kissing her temple. "I love you," she said quietly, before going to unlock the building's front door. 

Alex smiled, leaning into Olivia during the elevator ride up. It was an odd change for her to understand; for a month, she had wanted no physical contact, and now, she felt like if she let go, she might shatter. 

Not releasing Alex, Olivia led her to the apartment, following Erin and Emma inside. Somehow, she sensed Alex's need for proximity, so Olivia kept her tone light and teasing when she asked, "If I go pee, are you gonna puke again?" 

Alex chuckled, pretending to think it over. "I don't know; you're pretty good Dramamine." 

Emma's eyes were panicked. "Okay, ew. No. No pukey on the nice carpet." 

Alex shook her head. "I'm fine," she told her lover and her sister. "Really." 

"Olivia, you go pee," Erin directed, peeling Emma off the figurative ceiling with a hand on her shoulder. "We're going to make coffee and snacks. Alex...you...just don't puke. 'Kay?" She steered Emma toward the kitchen as Olivia headed for the bathroom. 

Alex chuckled, settling herself on the couch and flipping through one of Emma's design magazines. 

In the kitchen, Emma started pulling down a wide array of cookies, and pulled out a couple of blocks of cheese, hopping around Erin, trying to find some crackers. She paused to munch on a few; why she was so hungry was beyond her "So today was a yay," Emma finally said, finding her cutting knives. 

"Half a yay," Erin acceded, setting a variety of crackers up on the tray. "We still have to get through your trial. You have any cheesecake bites?" 

"Mmm, I dunno. Check the fridge." Emma busied herself in preparing the coffee, and watched Erin search the depths of her fridge. "Hey, Er. Do you think I should take a deal?" 

Pondering this for a moment, Erin returned triumphantly with some of Emma's homemade cheesecake bites and milk for the coffee. "Girl, I swear, if you had a penis, I'd marry you." She popped a cheesecake bite into her mouth and chewed a minute before replying to Emma's query. "No, I don't think you should settle until we see what else Caroline thinks she can introduce into evidence. The Homicide division cleared you, so the report isn't going to be much help there. The burden of proof is on us," she reminded her friend, "but they still have to have some kind of evidence." 

The smile ran quickly from Emma's face. "I just want it to be a viable option. I know Allie told you otherwise, but I really want to end this as soon as possible, with as little damage as possible. Just remember that you work for me, not Alex, okay?" 

Pinning Emma with a look of sympathy, Erin nodded. "I'm working in your best interests, though, Em, so I'm not gonna tell you to take a deal if I don't think it's the best thing for you." 

"Okay. I just want you to know that I'm thinking about it." Emma nodded in the general vicinity of the living room. "Let's get these out there." She picked up the tray and walked back into the sitting area, putting the plate in front of her sister. "Eat up," she ordered, swiping a piece of Havarti. "And don't tell me you're not hungry, Alexandra Grace, or I'll beat you with a spatula." 

"I'm shakin' in my pumps," Alex replied, placing a piece of cheddar onto a water cracker. 

"Just as long as you don't scuff the floors, you're fine," Emma replied, sitting on the floor. "Do we have a game plan for the next week, or are we just chilling until the last possible minute?" 

Olivia came back into the room, reaching for a cracker and some cheese immediately. "I'm requesting the day of the trial off, but I've gotta work the rest of the week." She eyed Alex before choosing her next words wisely. "I'd love it if you and Alex just took off and relaxed," she told Emma. 

"Hey, maybe that's an idea," Emma agreed, nodding at Alexandra. "We haven't gone to see the leaves change lately. We could go upstate, or maybe to New Hampshire." 

Alex chuckled, reading the ruse like a neon sign. "You people forget I have an active docket," she chided. "I have to work. And so do you, missy. Don't you have a doctoral thesis to be working on?" 

"Thesis schmesis," Emma replied, stealing one of Erin's cheesecake bites and popping it into her mouth. "I need a vacation." 

"You'll get one around Christmas, just like you always do," Alex replied, leaning against her sister's couch. 

"Where are we going this year?" Emma asked, immediately interested. 

Alex shrugged. "I don't know, I figured either skiing or the Caribbean." 

Emma looked at Olivia. "Which would you prefer?" 

"I'm invited?" Olivia looked surprised. "That's Cabot-time." 

"All those who consider Olivia a Cabot, raise their hands." As she, Alex and Erin raised their hands, Emma giggled. "So. Do you ski or snorkel?" 

Shrugging in embarrassment, Olivia let an indecisive murmur escape her lips as she stood. "I need more coffee. Anybody else?" She escaped into the kitchen on the pretense of refilling Emma's mug, along with her own. 

Emma looked at Alex with an embarrassed grimace. "Oops." 

Alex shook her head. "It's okay. I'll be right back." She went into the kitchen, leaning against her sister's counter, watching as Olivia fiddled with the coffee maker. "She didn't mean to make you uncomfortable," Alex said after a minute. 

"It's okay," Olivia assured her automatically, not looking up. "Don't worry 'bout it." 

"I think she just wanted you to know how much both of us love and appreciate you, that's all. You know Emma and her mouth," Alex chuckled. She walked across the kitchen, tentatively wrapping her arms around Olivia's waist. 

Turning in her embrace, Olivia smiled at Alex. "It's really okay. It just surprised me, that's all." 

Alex smiled back, kissing the underside of Olivia's chin. "As always, no pressure. If you want to come along on our crazy sojourn, you're more than welcome. But if you'd rather your sanity remain intact, I'll understand completely." 

"And pass up Emma's Christmas cookies?" Olivia teased. "Not a snowball's chance in hell. So did you decide where we're going?" 

"Not yet, I don't think. Normally, we go skiing up north, or we head out to Vail if we feel like braving the holiday crowds. But I'm thinking the Caribbean sounds really good right about now." Alex stepped back, grabbing Emma's coffee cup. "Besides, if I remember correctly, you enjoyed the bikini Emma bought me last summer. That hasn't seen the light of day in a while."

Grinning, Olivia took her own cup in hand. "If you promise to bring it - and use it - I'm voting for a cruise." 

"I'll have Emma look into it," Alex promised, walking back into the living room. She handed her sister the mug, then returned to her spot on the couch. She yawned quietly, shaking her head as Emma's eyes bore into her. "It's been a long day. I'm allowed to yawn, Em." 

"It's two o'clock in the afternoon," Emma replied. "So unless you were out partying until three last night, you shouldn't be tired." 

Alex rolled her eyes. "Excuse me, Miss 'I listed Professional Napper as previous employment on my college application'. I'm fine, okay?" 

Olivia chuckled, feigning a yawn herself. "I'm exhausted too. I think this morning took a lot out of all of us," she informed Emma pointedly. "In fact," the detective turned to Alex, "would you mind if we took a nap?" 

"A nap would be great," Alex replied, pinning her sister with a satisfied gaze. 

Emma met her sister's gaze, and stuck her tongue out. "Well, you two have fun. You want to steal my bed?" 

Alex shook her head, rising from the couch. She leaned over the coffee table and kissed her sister and friend goodbye, then headed toward the front door. "I think my bed is calling." 

Following like an obedient puppy, Olivia waved a quick goodbye, as Erin just grinned at the pair. 

Emma latched the door behind them, turning to Erin briefly before bursting into laughter. "If they're going home to nap, I'll start dating again within the next year." 

Chuckling, Erin shook her head. "I'm gonna fix you up, girl," she promised. "I know the nicest little punk lesbian. She's a friend of my sister - you remember Amy?" 

Emma shrugged, flopping on her couch. "Well, considering my track record with men, maybe I should consider it." 

"Maybe you should," Erin teased her. "'Can't hurt, might help', like my mom always said. So should I get Amy to give me Shelby's number?" 

Emma thought about it for a minute, then looked up at Erin. "Sure, what the hell." 

Erin's face could've cracked in two under the weight of her grin. "Really? All right!" Leaning over, she hugged Emma with a giggle. "I'll call you tonight and give you the details." She grabbed her coat off the rack as she headed for the door. 

Emma waggled her fingers at her friend's retreating back. "Can't hurt, might help," she repeated, reaching for her remote and flipping through the channels. 

* * *

Alex let her fingers brush against Olivia's hand as they walked down Emma's hallway towards the elevator. It was nice to want contact again, nice to almost crave it. There were still butterflies in her stomach, just as there had been the first time Olivia had kissed her. But now, Alex felt **she** was in control, not her fear. As they entered the elevator and the doors closed shut behind them, she turned, pressing her body against Olivia's, kissing the detective thoroughly. 

Responding in kind, Olivia finally broke the kiss when they reached the lobby of the apartment building. "Wow," she murmured as they walked to the curb to hail a cab. "Feeling better?" 

Alex couldn't contain an Emma-like grin. "I'm thinking that's a yes." But mingling with her confidence was still a lingering niggle of doubt. "Is that okay?" 

They climbed into the first cab that stopped and Olivia shook her head with a reproachful smile. "Alex, whatever you want is fine with me. I'm just here for support, okay?" 

Alex placed a hand on Olivia's knee and squeezed lightly. "Thanks." She leaned back against the pleather of the cab and sighed quietly. "I really don't know why I'm so tired." 

"It's probably just the stress," Olivia hypothesized. "I think Emma was starting to get really worried about you." 

"Emma worries about the dust bunnies under her bed," Alex replied. "I think she was probably more worried that I wasn't confiding in her as much. She likes to know what's going on with everyone." 

"I know," Olivia chuckled. "She grills me until I tell her what I had for lunch." 

Alex nodded, digging in her bag to pay the driver as he pulled to a stop in front of her building. "You know what it's like," she agreed, stepping onto the sidewalk. They ascended to her apartment, and Alex opened the door, readjusting the thermostat as they entered. "You want anything?" she asked, hanging her coat up in the closet. 

"A snuggle," Olivia declared. "I can see how tired you are, Miss ADA. Get your butt in bed." 

Alex chuckled, walking backwards to her bedroom. "I don't remember you ever being this bossy before," she joked, kicking off her shoes halfway through the living room, and unbuttoning her blouse as she walked. 

Olivia grinned, laying her leather jacket on the back of the couch. "You never needed to be bossed around before. You always took care of yourself." Her teasing hid a deeper worry about her girlfriend. 

Alex stopped in her bedroom doorway, her blouse fluttering open as the heat kicked on in her apartment. "Liv..." she cupped the detective's cheek, blue eyes soulful. "I really am feeling better," she promised, "and you've been a big part of that. And I know that I've lapsed in focusing on me, but I'm working on that, too. I thought I had lost the strength to fight, but you gave it back to me. You don't have to worry about me anymore, okay?" 

"Maybe I don't need to, but I'm going to." Olivia pulled away from Alex with a smile, to show she wasn't upset, and climbed into the king-sized bed she'd missed so thoroughly. "I've worried about you since this whole thing started, and I can't just stop, you know." 

Alex dug through her drawers, pulling out an old long-sleeved t-shirt, and worn sweatpants before she hopped up on her bed. She curled on her side, facing Olivia. "You just worry about so many other people. I don't want you to have to add me to that list." 

Chuckling, Olivia shook her head against the pillow, laying an arm over Alex's waist. "I'm a worrier, it's in my genes," she protested. "It's what I do." 

Alex mimicked Olivia's actions, sliding her arm underneath Olivia's and scooting closer to the brunette. "Well, as soon as Emma is cleared of any wrongdoing, we'll move past this, and you can give your genes a rest." Her eyes fluttered shut as she settled into her overstuffed pillows, feeling comforted and finding long-sought solace. 

Olivia knew it would take much more than Emma's trial ending to release Alex from the bonds of fear that Mark had drawn so tight around her. Still, she agreed with a simple, "Yeah," holding Alex close.   
  


* * *  
  


Alex released a deep breath, only halfway aware that Olivia pulled a throw blanket over her. She slept peacefully for the first half hour or so, until the contents of the tape started to color her dreams. She was back in the courtroom, and the tape was on constant repeat. Mark was on the judge's bench, laughing like a hyena. Emma was sobbing in the corner; her clothes were torn, her face barely recognizable. Olivia, Elliot and Cragen sat in the jury box, shaking their heads in tandem at Alex. Alex sat in the witness seat, watching the tape of Mark on top of her. She screamed out in the tape, she screamed out in the witness box, and she screamed out in her bedroom, flailing her arms and legs, trying to free herself of the blanket and Olivia, whose arm was now lying over her stomach, holding Alex down. "No!" Alex cried. "Let me go! Let me go!" 

Awake as soon as Alex started to whimper, Olivia pulled her arm away, trying to free Alex from the tangled-up mess of the afghan. "Alex," she said, shaking the blonde gently, trying to wake her girlfriend without scaring her. "Wake up." 

"No, no, no," Alex whimpered, flying into a sitting position. She knocked Olivia's arm away and grasped onto the side of the mattress, chest heaving. She rubbed her face with her left hand, trying to calm her racing heart with her right. She let out a single sob, and her chest heaved. She leapt up from the bed and raced to the bathroom, afraid she might be sick again. She arched over the toilet bowl, gagging. When nothing else happened, she slid down to the tile until her back rested against the side of her tub. 

Standing in the doorway, Olivia watched the scene with an aching heart. "Can I do anything?" she asked softly. 

Alex looked up at her with teary eyes, chin trembling. Finally, she nodded gently. "Can you hold me?" 

Olivia knelt down in front of Alex, wrapping the woman in her embrace. After a long silence, the detective said quietly, "I think you need to see a professional, Allie." 

Alex wiped her eyes, resting her head in the crook of Olivia's shoulder. "That's the first time I've had a nightmare since I started talking to Cragen," she explained quietly. "I think the stress of today acted as a trigger, just like Huang said. But I'll look into it," she acquiesced. "Seeing that tape..." She shook her head, at a loss for words. 

"I know how hard it was for me to see it, so I can only imagine how you felt." Olivia's hand circled on the small of Alex's back. 

Alex sat up, rubbing her forehead. "I hate you seeing me like this. I hate seeing your concerned detective face focused on me." 

"For your information, that's my concerned girlfriend face," Olivia corrected, surprised that Alex could tell the difference; she hadn't meant to look at her like just another victim, but seeing the same symptoms, the same reaction, had thrown her off. 

"Whichever," Alex replied. She closed her eyes, and then opened them again, moving to get off the cold tile and stretch out her quickly stiffening back. She moved back into the bedroom, standing at the edge of her bed, running her hand against the wooden footboard. "You and I haven't made love in two months," she said after a minute, half of her wondering where on earth that comment had come from. But the other half had been wondering why that was; was Olivia turned off by her? It was obvious there were times the detective face outweighed the girlfriend face. Alex was aware that most of the distance between them had been her fault, but still, she wondered what Olivia thought about that aspect of their relationship. 

Slipping up behind Alex, Olivia cleared her throat, so as not to startle her. Sliding one arm around the blonde's waist, the detective buried her nose in Alex's peach-scented hair. Olivia inhaled deeply before forming a reply. "Do you think I'm upset about that?" she asked, her voice neutral. 

"I would be. Hell, I **am**. I know it's mostly my fault, but sometimes I think you see me more as a victim than as your girlfriend. I mean, you haven't tried to touch me at all; you're tentative around me, because as a detective, you know I'm skittish. It's completely irrational, I know, but...my brain just skips down the road and wonders if no sex means this has driven a bigger wedge between us than either of us is willing to admit." 

Olivia found herself slipping into the 'bad little girl!' tone that Emma used on both of them when she was upset. "Alexandra Grace Cabot," she began, guiding Alex to face her, "I love you more than anything. Yes, I feel like we've drifted apart since Mark hurt you." Olivia was still unable, or unwilling, to use the words "attacked" or "raped". They were too clinical for what he'd done to their relationship, and to Alex's psyche. "But none of this is your fault," she emphasized, trying to catch her girlfriend's eyes. "Do you understand that?" 

"I blame myself for letting the strain get this far, but I know what Mark did to me wasn't my fault," Alex replied. "I just consider this - you and me - the most important thing in my world right now. And I wonder how I'll be able to rebuild the rest of it if I can't rebuild us." 

"You can't do any of it alone," Olivia argued, tightening her hold on Alex. "But if you want to get back to normal - or as close as we can get - I think we're already doing that." She kissed the side of Alex's neck, barely brushing her lips over the sweet skin there. "Don't push yourself, okay? I don't want to see you hurt any more than you already have been." 

Alex turned, threading her arms around Olivia's neck, running her fingers over the nape of the brunette's neck. "I want to try more," she said after a minute, equating the feelings she was having to a teenage boy trying to cop his first feel. "I'm ready, Liv." 

Olivia's heart leapt at the simple words. "Are you sure?" 

Alex nodded. "I'm sure." She leaned in gently, teasing Olivia's mouth with her lips. "If you are, that is." 

Groaning her reply, Olivia met Alex's lips with restraint, letting her guide their movements. 

They stood next to Alex's bed, kissing gently. Alex's heart fluttered between her throat and her chest as she trailed her tongue over and through Olivia's mouth. As the minutes passed, she felt herself relaxing, but also growing bolder, as she slid her hand under Olivia's v-neck sweater. "Liv," she whispered, moving her mouth to Olivia's neck, raining kisses along her jawbone. 

Olivia managed a choked growl. "Yeah?" she replied, the much-missed feeling of Alex's lips on her skin causing her brain to shut down. 

Alex said nothing, but laced her fingers with Olivia's, leading them around the side of the bed. Alex kissed her again, scooting back on the bed and pulling Olivia next to her. She knew instinctively that having Olivia on top of her would be uncomfortable, so Alex opted instead to lie on her side and open her arms, welcoming Olivia back. 

Slipping into her arms, Olivia peppered Alex's neck and collarbone with tiny kisses. "Are you sure?" she asked again. 

Alex nodded again, capturing Olivia's mouth in a fiercer kiss. "Be gentle."

* * *

She pushed the door open, body weary from a long day. Everything had piled up on her desk, and it had taken her an extra two hours to sift through it. But as she kicked her shoes off and hung her coat up, sliding her attaché down the wall until it caught on the molding, she was happy for the silence and solitude her apartment was able to give her. She locked the door behind her, moving into the body of her apartment. She turned on the lamp, the light illuminating her blonde hair. She clicked on her answering machine, scrolling through the message from her sister, pausing as her GP's receptionist's voice filled her ears. "Hi, Miss Cabot. This is Dr. Franklin's office. We wanted to let you know we got your test results back, and you were right. Congratulations! Based on the information you gave Dr. Franklin during your visit, you're due on June 6th. We need to refer you to an OB to do an ultrasound, so give us a call back when you get a second. Thanks!"

THE END


	12. Secrets

"Knock, knock," Emma called out, sliding the key into her sister's lock. "Everybody decent?"  Alex stepped out of the kitchen, and Emma whistled. "Damn, child, why didn't I get a body like yours?" 

Alex laughed, brushing off a few stray crumbs from her pre-dinner snack off the very little black dress. "Leave it to you to be an hour late for your own birthday dinner," Alex chastised, moving over and hugging her sister. "And you look pretty good yourself. That new?" 

Emma twirled in her Chinese-print red halter dress. "I was feeling spunky. Olivia here? Wait, what kind of question is that. It's a day ending in 'y'; of course Olivia's here." 

Alex chuckled. "She's finishing in the bathroom. We'll head out of here in about ten." 

Emma nodded, flopping on Alex's couch. "Gables could not be going any worse," she informed her sister, referring to the new restaurant she was designing, "that's why I was late. Sorry." 

Alex waved her apology away. "At least you remembered to call this time. I was able to move the reservation back; no problem." 

"Where are we going, anyway?" Emma asked eagerly, sitting up and watching her sister straighten the apartment. "I hate surprises." 

"Since when?" Alex rolled her eyes. "**I** hate surprises. You thrive on them." 

Emma pondered her point for a minute. "Well...okay. But you're terrible at surprises." 

Alex leaned down, slipping a jewelry box next to her sister. Kissing her sister's temple, Alex grinned. "You forget I had help this year." 

"Presents!" Emma fingered the box. "Can I open it now?" 

Alex shrugged. "Sure." 

"Are there more later? Or should I savor this now?" 

"Open it," Alex ordered, grinning. 

Emma tore into the package, her enthusiasm belying the fact she was one year closer to 30. She fingered the Zales box, and sucked in her breath at the three-stone diamond pendant her sister had chosen for her. "Oh, Allie," she breathed. "God, it's gorgeous!" 

Alex smiled. "I think there's supposed to be a meaning as to what the three diamonds represent. I figured it could be you, me and Olivia. All stacked on top of one another, holding each other up." 

"Also, we're pretty and damn expensive to make happy," Emma added, throwing her arms around her sister. "Thank you!" 

Alex rubbed her sister's back. "Anytime, baby girl. Well, not any time; my paycheck's hurting from this one." 

"Will you fasten it on me?" Emma asked, raising her hair. 

"I'd have to search high and low for my glasses to see that clasp," Alex said after a minute of inspection. "Hey, honey?" she called into the back of the apartment. "Can you come help us out here?" 

Striding out of the bathroom, Olivia dried her hands on her black pants as she came into the living room. "Did one of you get a bullet wound **again**?" she teased. "I told you to stop playing 'Alias' with my guns." 

"Hey, that only happened **once** when Al forgot she was SpyMommy and **I **was SpyBaby," Emma retorted, giggling. 

Alex rolled her eyes, delicately handing Olivia the necklace. "I can't see the clasp. Would you mind?" 

"Not at all. Turn around, SpyBaby." Olivia draped the necklace around Emma's neck and fastened it with a triumphant, "There!" Turning Emma to face her, she admired the diamonds as they sparkled. "It looks great. Happy birthday, Emmy." 

"Thank you," Emma replied, hugging Olivia. "All right, who's stahvin', Jahdan?" 

"You and the Boston accent," Alex admonished. "Let's go, Nomah." 

They hailed a cab, which promptly swerved with Emma's scream as Alex told him to head to the Russian Tea Room. "Allie, you didn't!" she squealed, quieter this time. 

"You've been saying you wanted to go there for six months. What kind of a sister would I be if I didn't listen?" 

"A much richer sister," Emma replied, grinning like an idiot. 

Alex looked at Olivia. "She's right. Damn." 

They pulled to a stop in front of the restaurant, Emma's lateness working in their favor for once, since they ran into very little traffic. 

Alex wrapped her arm around Olivia's waist as they approached the maitre'd. "Reservation for Cabot," she informed him. 

"Of course, ma'am. Right this way, please." He led them through the restaurant and towards one of the banquet rooms. Emma was chattering about nothing in particular, really, except to mention that she'd spoken to Erin earlier in the day. Alex's heart nearly stopped; if Jacobs had spilled the beans... But instead, Emma said that Caroline had requested a continuance in their civil matter, as she had to head back to Atlanta to deal with a personal crisis. Emma hypothesized that it was a standing waxing appointment for her unibrow, but you never could tell with the Cabot sisters. As the maitre'd led them into the dimly lit private room and flipped the light on, Emma stopped her jabbering. 

"Surprise!" the room hollered in unison, knocking Emma back into her sister. Emma's mouth dropped open, and she was immersed in stunned silence for a minute before she turned and socked Alex in the shoulder. "You bitch!" 

Alex laughed, but rubbed her shoulder discreetly. "Honey, you told half of New York it was your birthday. I just invited the rest of 'em." 

"Oh, my God," Emma gushed, heading into the masses of people and hugging everyone she could. Alex waved hello to Cragen, Elliot and Kathy, as Emma hugged Munch for all she was worth. She looked up at Olivia, still laughing. "I'd say we surprised her." 

Grinning back, Olivia nodded. "For all the planning we did, it better have worked." 

Alex chuckled, waving to Jess from across the room. Her smile was maintained as she said discreetly to Olivia, "Did I mention how utterly delicious you look right now?" 

"No, you didn't," Olivia replied with a cordial smile. "Decide where you wanna do me later," she chuckled under her breath, careful to avoid the "F" word, as it seemed to be a trigger for Alex's unpleasant memories. "I'm going to go say hi to Munch. That oughta kill my libido for an hour or two." She released Alex, strolling across the room to clap the other detective on the back. 

"Great party, Olivia," John replied to her greeting, trying to figure out what the little stuffed things he was popping in his mouth actually were. 

"I figured a cash bar and crab puffs would tear you away from the Playboy Channel for a night," she teased, as their colleagues migrated toward them. 

"It was a tough decision, but when Alex promised Emma would most likely do her version of 'Son of a Preacher Man' after a couple of shots of tequila, I knew you had won," Munch responded with a chuckle. 

"Alex told us it would be the theme from 'Coyote Ugly'," Elliot chimed in, but Cragen shook his head. 

"If she has tequila, it'll be 'Building A Mystery'. If it's vodka, she'll sing 'It's Raining Men'." 

"How sad it is that an entire squad of the NYPD knows my sister this well," Alex interjected. "Unfortunately, you'll have to wait until another function to see Emma in action. She's decided she actually wants to remember this night, so she's not drinking." 

"That's no fun," Munch complained. 

"Well I guess you'll just have to settle for the DJ, boys." Olivia reminded Elliot about a report that was due the next day, before Alex dragged her off to a corner table. 

Alex slid into the booth, pulling Olivia against her side. She kissed her discreetly before settling on holding her girlfriend's hand in the candlelight for a moment. "Hi," she whispered, rubbing Olivia's thigh. 

"Hi," Olivia murmured, trying not to jump too high and give away Alex's discreet movements. 

"How was work?" Alex asked, continuing her ministrations. "I didn't get to see you today." 

Olivia nodded. "I know; we were slammed. Sorry about canceling our lunch, but Cragen was riding me an' Elliot hard to get something on the Corelli murder." 

"Ah, it's all right. I worked through a bunch of backed files anyway. Unfortunately, being in at lunch meant Liz Donnelly cornered me. Apparently, there's a conference going on this weekend up at Boston University about the advances in prosecuting cases involving exploited children. Since we've seen something like a twenty-five percent increase in those kinds of prosecutions, she nailed me to go. It'll be interesting - representatives from the National Center for Missing and Exploited Children are the keynote speakers - but it means I leave tomorrow and get back late on Sunday." Alex rested her hand on Olivia's knee. "Sorry. I know we had plans." 

"It's okay." Olivia hid her disappointment well. "You'll just make it up to me the weekend after. And the next month..." Her eyes lit up. "My birthday."  Olivia had always hated the anniversary of her birth – partly because of the circumstances surrounding her conception, and partly because her mother never seemed to put the vodka down long enough to remember the date.  But since she and Alex had been together, they had celebrated every year with a quiet, candlelit dinner, and Olivia's loathing of her birthday had morphed into child-like anticipation.

Alex made a contented noise from the back of her throat. "If you think this was a birthday celebration, just wait and see what I have planned for you." At Olivia's concerned look, she leaned in even closer. "No potential mosh pits for you. Think lace teddy, hot tub, candles, and no work for an entire weekend." 

A teasing twinkle lit Olivia's face and she couldn't hold back the giggling snort that burst forth when she asked, "You really think we can fit Emma in the tub with us?" 

Alex pinned her with a prim look. "I'm giving her the wrong directions. We go north, she ends up somewhere in Pennsylvania." 

"As if Emma follows directions," Cragen interrupted gently. "Olivia, can I steal the counselor for a dance?" He motioned to the cleared center of the room, where the DJ was pouring forth 'Someone To Watch Over Me'.

"Sure, Cap, why not." Olivia leaned back and smiled at Alex. 

Alex smiled as she slid out of the booth, taking Cragen's hand. As they moved on the dance floor, Cragen pushed aside the memories of holding her and spoke quietly in her ear. "I got confirmation today about Boston." 

Alex took a deep breath, but continued to smile, for fear of tipping anyone off. "What names did you use?" 

"The hotel room's in my name. We're on the same flight to Logan. You get the aisle." 

"What, you actually want to have kneecaps when you land?" Alex kidded, remembering the few flights they'd taken together, where his long legs would get attacked by the beverage cart. 

Cragen chuckled. "Did you confirm your appointment?" 

Alex nodded. "I talked to your friend Krista today. I'm under a pseudonym in the appointment book, and she'll keep all records with my actual name completely confidential. You must have drilled the importance of confidentiality pretty hard into her." 

Cragen shrugged. "Whatever it takes." 

Alex took another deep breath. "Thank you," she said simply, not really knowing what else to say. He knew everything that had gone on in the past week, and they'd discussed it at length. It was the only thing she really could do. Part of her still hurt at not being able to tell Olivia, but Alex knew instinctively the detective wouldn't understand her decision. She was carrying a child of rape, just as her lover's mother had. And while Olivia's mother had decided to keep and raise the baby, Alex just couldn't, for so many reasons. It didn't make her decision any easier. Every time she looked at Olivia, another part of her broke. 

Cragen pulled her minutely closer, dragging Alex's thoughts back to the present. "You're doing the right thing," he assured quietly as the song ended. "It'll all be over soon." 

Alex smiled, kissing his cheek. "I'll see you tomorrow," she whispered. 

"Count on it." He let her go, still reluctantly, and watched her sneak up behind Emma, who was talking excitedly with a group of friends. 

Alex animatedly joined the conversation, and Emma slipped away, sliding in next to Olivia. "You having fun?" she asked, swiping a sip of Olivia's water. 

Olivia smiled, taking her water back. She kept one eye on Cragen, across the room, wondering what he'd seemed to be speaking to Alex so intently about. "Yeah, you?" 

"A blast," Emma enthused. "Thanks. You didn't have to do anything like this. I mean, Alex did, but you being involved makes it that much more special."

Shrugging, Olivia sipped at her Evian. "It's okay. I'm glad we could do something for you." 

Emma tilted her head, watching Olivia's eyes dance away. "All right, Benson. Out with it. What's bothering you?" 

"Nothing," Olivia said, a little too quickly. "I just had a long day." 

Emma raised her finger, making an intermittent beeping sound until she was pointing directly at Olivia, when the beeps became one long, shrill beep. "Ah, the trusty bullshit meter. Works every time." Emma cocked her head and implored Olivia with her baby blues. "Olivia, we talk almost every night, about almost everything. I can tell when you're holding back on me. Now, you can either tell me now, or I can sit here and bug you for the rest of the night until you do tell me. Your choice." 

"It's your birthday," Olivia pointed out. "You'll only bug me until I point and yell 'Cake!'."

"I'll bug you, get cake, and then come back and bug you some more," Emma retorted. She placed a hand on Olivia's and offered a sympathetic look. "It was just a dance. She's going home with you tonight, you know," she said. "Find me later if you want to talk some more." 

Olivia matched Emma's cocked head, turning to face her. "It's not that," she said, contradicting her reluctance to discuss it. "It's just that...for as well as Alex and I have been getting along lately, something's missing. **She's** holding back, and for the life of me, I can't figure out what it is." She sighed, long and low. "I know she's telling Cragen stuff about the rape that she can't tell me. And it's okay," Olivia hurried on. "That's not the problem. The problem is that there's something she's discussing with him that she should be telling me, and for some reason, she feels like she can't." Olivia pinned Emma with a knowing gaze. "Has she said anything to you?" 

Emma shook her head. "No, she hasn't said word one. I figured everything was fine, considering just how well you two are doing. Look, Liv, what I do know is just how much she loves you, and how much her trust in you is growing. I doubt she's holding anything back from you, but if she is, she'll tell you in time. I have no doubt about that." 

"I know she's holding something back, Em. I'm sure of it." Olivia watched Alex giggling with Jess and Erin, her expression conflicted. She wanted to believe everything was fine, but she just couldn't. "If she tells you, I don't expect you to rat it out to me," Olivia assured her. "Just...tell her she can tell me anything, okay? It won't change us." 

"Of course," Emma assured, worried. "You can tell her that, too, you know." 

Olivia returned her gaze to Emma, nodding as she sipped her water again. "I have," she said quietly. "The message just isn't getting through." 

"I wish I knew what to tell you," Emma said after a moment. "I would tell you to be patient with her, but you're freakin' Mother Teresa. I'm sure everything will work out. Have I ever steered you wrong?" 

"No, but only because I don't let you drive," Olivia teased. "Now stop sitting here in the pity corner. Get out there and enjoy your party." 

"Okay," Emma acquiesced, leaning in and kissing Olivia's cheek. "Love you." 

"Love you, too," Olivia murmured, her heart relaxing under the comfort of having someone to talk to about her concerns. 

Emma slid out of the booth and rejoined her party, leading to several highlights, the most obvious being her tango with Munch to Kelly Osbourne's cover of 'Papa Don't Preach'. Alex succeeded in dragging Olivia out onto the dance floor for a number or two, and returned to her girlfriend as it approached midnight. Alex sat across from Olivia this time, lacing her fingers with the brunette's. "You ready to blow this pop stand?" 

"Just about. I'm gonna say goodbye to a few people. Meet you at the door in five?" Olivia bargained. 

"You got it." Alex squeezed their linked hands and headed for the coat check, pausing to say goodbye to Emma and wave briefly to Cragen and the rest of the SVU squad. 

Olivia made her goodbyes to her colleagues, Jess, Erin and a few others she'd met over the course of the night. Seeking Emma out, she hugged the blonde tightly. "Happy Birthday again," Olivia grinned genuinely at her. Lowering her voice to a teasing whisper, she added, "Maybe for your thirtieth, Alex and I'll give you a nephew." Turning, she headed for the door. 

Emma cracked up, her laughter announcing Olivia to Alex before the brunette appeared in the flesh. Alex handed Olivia her leather jacket, pulling her own coat more tightly around her. "I don't think I've been up this late since I passed the bar," Alex said, smiling at the door attendant as he hailed a cab for them. 

"I'm always up this late, 'cause I can't pass a bar…without going in," Munch cracked, passing them in the hall. 

Alex groaned at the joke. "The day you pass a bar is the day Guiliani's plan to clean up the city actually goes into effect. You know, John, Emma tells me the types of bars you frequent are actually known by the general population as 'strip clubs'," she teased. 

Rolling his eyes, Munch turned to walk toward the nearest subway stop. "Emma wouldn't know a strip club from a hole in the ground," he threw back sardonically. "Besides, the only time she's seen me in a bar, she was dancin' on it." 

Alex grimaced playfully. "Ooh, too much information. Good night, John." 

"'Night, Alex. Olivia." He strode off down the street, whistling 'Baby Got Back'. 

* * *

The two women stood in the darkness, illuminated only by the iridescent glow of the streetlights reflecting off them. Olivia maintained the strained silence, unable to make idle chatter with the growing rift she felt between herself and Alex. 

Alex looked down the street for a cab, her mind a myriad of guilty thoughts. She had never been a coward before, always able to stand up for what she believed in and to confront those who needed confronting, but now, as Olivia's perfume and Emma's laughter draped over her, her long-touted ideal of 'doing the right thing' was slipping away. "Liv, I..." she stuttered, turning away from Olivia again. "What's the matter?" she finally asked, watching Olivia drift further away from her. 

Shrugging, Olivia gestured down the street to a bus shelter, posters plastered on all sides. "Check that out," she muttered. "How adorable is that?" 'That' was a poster featuring the virgin Mary and baby Jesus, cuddled together in front of a roaring fire in a modern home. The caption read, "Invite the Lord home for Christmas." Beneath it was the addendum, "Doesn't the Baby King deserve your Love? Brought to you by the First Church of Christ, 5th Street, Manhattan." 

Olivia sighed softly, her thoughts pounding against her temple for release. "When are they gonna get it?" she fumed. "Fuck Jesus." Realizing what she had said, Olivia glanced at Alex before returning her gaze to the offending advertisement. "I mean...forget the whole baby Jesus thing for a minute. There are tens of thousands of people in this city who abuse or neglect their kids, and all these fucking people can think about is whether or not those same kids are getting religious education? How about worrying if they're getting enough to eat, or if they're getting the meds they need. How about thinking about all of **those** kids, instead of being worried about one who's been **dead** for two thousand years." Olivia glared at the poster, wishing she could rip it down - but knowing another would appear in its place by the next morning. "I know I'm ranting." She turned again to Alex, meeting those deep blue eyes. "But I just wish to **God**," she added emphatically, "that all these Jesus-freaks could see their 'Lord' in the eyes of the thousands of kids I see every year, who come to me damaged, broken or dead. I wish they could see the innocence that's been ripped away from them like I do. I wish—" Olivia seethed, "I wish I had some kind of power - you know, like the good witch in 'The Wizard of Oz', when she branded Dorothy to keep her safe? I want that - some power to make these people see how beautiful each and every one of those children are." She ran out of air and momentum, and paused to take a deep breath. 

Alex had heard Olivia's vehemence before, and had listened to many of her rants, but this one caught her off guard.  She had never lashed out in public before, only in the confines of their apartments, and Alex had never heard her be critical of organized religion like that. But Alex knew that the poster was a scapegoat for the larger problem of kids having to be afraid of their own parents. Alex sympathized as best she could; she was undoubtedly affected by the cases she prosecuted, given her family's history going through abuse, but she'd accepted long ago that she would never fully understand what Olivia saw day in and day out. "Maybe the poster will serve as a reminder of just how important and influential children are," she offered after a moment, her words ringing lame and trite. "Jesus was a baby who changed the course of history, depending on who you ask. This child was nurtured by his parents, and sent off to do amazing things. Maybe some people will see that all children have that opportunity." 

"Yeah, right," Olivia scoffed. "And monkeys might fly outta my ass." She shook her head, defeat reflected in her stature. "No. I think I'm one of the few people left who understands how special and potentially amazing each and every kid is. I shoulda been a teacher," she chuckled wryly. 

"You would have been a great teacher," Alex agreed quietly, "especially with grammar like that." She offered a brief smile, then looked down the street to see if any cabs could rescue her from the guilt coursing through her body, engulfing her like white water rapids. _Each child is special,_ her mind repeated, and her hand instinctively went to her stomach. Olivia's comments had unwittingly solidified Alex's choice not to tell her about the impending abortion, or the pregnancy at all. It would devastate her two-fold; here, Alex was supposed to understand the plight of unwanted and neglected children, and tomorrow, she would turn her back on all that she and Olivia believed in to make her own life easier. Not to mention the fact that Alex's actions would undoubtedly let Olivia know that if it were up to Alex, Olivia never would have been born. At least, that's how the attorney knew the sensitive detective would see it, and Alex never wanted to cause Olivia that kind of pain. Instead, Alex would keep it to herself, and deal with the consequences as they came. 

The cab finally pulled to a stop in front of them, and Alex climbed in the back, sliding across the seat, and giving her address to the driver. As Olivia slipped in beside her, Alex rested a hand on her knee, trying to comfort them both. 

Sliding her arm around Alex's shoulders, Olivia leaned in and murmured. "Did you have too much cheese?" 

"Hm?" Following Olivia's gaze to her hand, which still rested on her stomach, Alex shrugged. "Oh. Yeah, I think between the cheese and the heavy tiramisu, my stomach's a little rocky. Nothing to worry about." She smiled, removing her hand from her stomach and laying it in her lap. 

"Take something when we get home, okay?" Olivia reached out and brushed stray hair away from Alex's eyes. The distance between them wasn't enough to override Olivia's instinctive desire to comfort and protect Alex. 

"Definitely," Alex agreed amiably, sighing internally. Eager to forget about the heavy conversation for a moment, she leaned her head against Olivia's shoulder and said, "How great did Emma look tonight?" 

"Fantastic," Olivia agreed. "I think she's starting to get over the whole thing." 'The whole thing' being, of course, He Who Shall Not Be Named. 

"Yeah. Thank God. She told me she had a date next weekend. Apparently, Erin started setting her up with people. I wondered why I couldn't do it, and she said, 'Al, other than Olivia, your dating life blows a goat. I trust Erin.'" 

Chuckling, Olivia nodded slowly. "She's right. It blows **two** goats, as a matter of fact." She turned a wicked grin on Alex. Olivia trailed off as the cab dropped them at Alex's apartment building. She handed the driver a couple of bills and climbed out, following Alex to the door. 

"Hey," Alex protested as she opened the building door, "my little harem of college girls doesn't seem to mind my dating life." 

Olivia raised an eyebrow. "We're coming back to that later, but for now, did Emma tell you who she was seeing on Saturday?" 

Alex shook her head, sliding her key into the door. "No. She just said Erin set her up. No details. Which, now that I think about it, is weird." 

"Yeah, so maybe I shouldn't spill," Olivia pondered aloud. 

Alex sat on the couch, groaning as she slipped her shoes off. "Wait, you know?" 

"Maybe. Want some coffee?" Olivia headed into the kitchen, dropping her coat on the coat rack as she went. 

Alex scoffed disbelievingly, padding into the kitchen on swollen arches. "Yeah, thanks," she said, opening her fridge and getting the milk. "You two spend more time together than we do," she said with a chuckle. "Should I be concerned you won't be able to resist her Cabot charms, either?" 

Chuckling again, Olivia shook her head. "Only if you keep refusing to tell me what's bothering you." 

Alex cocked her head, and put on a sympathetic face. "I'm fine, Olivia. Really. I'm bummed I have to go to this conference, but other than that, I'm fine." 

_Then why didn't you even ask if I wanted to go?_ Olivia thought, refusing to voice the idea that had been nagging at her for two weeks. "Whatever you say." 

Feeling traitorous, Alex leaned against the counter, brushing Olivia's hands with hers. "You know I tell you everything. Mostly because you and Emma have a penchant for ganging up on me so I'll tell you out of frustration, but I know I can come to you with anything. I'm not keeping anything from you, I promise." The lies caught in her throat, and made her feel physically ill. But Alex thought back to the conversation at the bus shelter, and she tried to comfort herself with the fact that she was right. 

Turning resigned eyes on Alex, Olivia shrugged. "I know you'll tell me eventually. I just have to wait you out." She smiled sadly at her girlfriend. 

"Why don't you believe me?" Alex's gentle tone was an obvious mask. 

"Because you're not telling me something. I don't know if it has anything to do with this trip, or if it's completely unrelated," Olivia said casually, scooping coffee grinds into the machine. 

"What would I keep from you?" Alex pressed, wondering if Emma had tipped Olivia off, despite her sister's numerous promises she wouldn't say anything. In fact, it had been at Emma's insistence that she go get a pregnancy test, as her sister remembered that the hospital had opted not to give Alex the morning-after pill, thanks to her dangerously low blood levels and inter-cranial bleeding at the time of her hospital admittance. Emma, despite her certainty that she would sue the hospital down to their last syringe, had agreed that it was Alex's secret to tell, even if the younger Cabot didn't believe holding out was the best idea. 

"If I knew, would I be asking?" 

"Touché," Alex replied, pouring her milk into the fresh cup of coffee. "I really don't know what else to tell you," she said finally, moving back into the living room. "There's nothing going on. Period." 

Fed up, Olivia just shook her head. "Fine." She took her cup of coffee and was preparing to lock herself in the spare bedroom when the mood of the evening got to her. Her anger bubbled up and Olivia set her mug down hard on the kitchen counter, hot coffee sloshing over the sides. "Then why haven't you invited me over in two weeks?" she demanded. "Come to think of it," Olivia realized slowly, "all this started about two weeks ago. What's going on?" 

"I thought we were past the 'inviting' stage," Alex replied, continuing after she sighed and let her hair out of the clip that had been holding it in place all night. "You know work's been crazy. You and I have been staying at our offices until nine and ten at night. And you haven't invited me over, either, let's not forget." 

Olivia seethed inside. "You can keep avoiding this for as long as you want, Alex, but it doesn't change the facts. You didn't invite me to Boston," she concluded, her voice low and disarmingly calm. 

"I didn't think you'd want to go," Alex replied. _I know you don't want to be there._ "And anyway, I just found out about it today, for God's sake. What did you want me to do? Say, 'Hey, Liz, my girlfriend would really like to come with me'? How do you think Donnelly would have reacted to that little tidbit?" 

"You know you didn't have to tell her," Olivia fought back. "I can afford a damn hotel room on my own, Alex." 

Alex scrubbed her face with her palms, indicating her frustration with the conversation, but also trying to strike the 'caught in the act' look from her face. The truth was, she had been planning the whole thing since she found out she was pregnant. She knew there was a conference going on in Boston that weekend, and was using that as her cover. Donnelly didn't know she was going anywhere, especially in the name of work. Olivia didn't know that, but Alex feared she was quickly figuring it out. _Damn her intuition._ Alex dropped her hands and shrugged. "I don't know what you want me to say, Liv. I'm sorry I didn't invite you to Boston. I'm sorry you feel neglected. I'm sorry for everything, okay? Does that make you feel better?" 

"No," Olivia said softly. Her tone dropped quickly from irate to concerned. "Because obviously, you're still upset," she explained quietly, "and I want to help." 

"There's nothing you can do," Alex replied quietly, looking to the floor. 

"Try me." 

Alex laughed sardonically. "Believe me. You can't help." 

"How the hell do you know that?" Olivia demanded, her eyes darkening angrily. "You won't even tell me what the fuck is wrong!" 

"You want to know what's wrong?" Alex got up off the couch, and took deliberate steps towards her. They stood toe-to-toe, brown eyes meeting blue in a blaze of fury and fear. "I'm pregnant," Alex seethed through clenched teeth. "That's what's wrong." Her tone was detached, emanating from the back of her throat in an even deeper alto. 

Olivia felt the words like a fist in her stomach. She took a step backward, processing quickly. "You're pregnant?" she repeated, turning the question over in her head. 

Alex licked her lips and massaged the back of her neck, staring at the opposite wall. "Yes," she replied evenly. "Six weeks. I found out two weeks ago." 

Olivia debated half a second over whether to ask the question tickling the back of her mind. She had no idea how much she'd later regret asking it. "Mark?" Olivia murmured simply. 

Alex chuckled again. "No, Olivia, it was Pablo, my cabin boy in Puerto Vallarta. Yes, of course it's Mark's." 

"I'm sorry," Olivia said softly. "I didn't mean to imply...I just...wanted to make sure." She sighed softly. "What can I do?" the detective asked, more gently than before. 

Alex shook her head. "Nothing. I'm going to Boston tomorrow to terminate the pregnancy, but I'm sure you already figured that out." 

Her eyes widening slightly was the only clue to Olivia's inner surprise. "Yeah. I - shoulda figured." She nodded slowly. Half of Olivia wanted to ask if Alex needed her to go to Boston, but the nauseous feeling in her stomach wouldn't let the words get past her throat. "I - does Emma know?" 

Alex nodded slowly. "She was the one who told me to get the pregnancy test done, and she was there when it came back positive." 

_So I was the last to know. Can't imagine why._ Olivia's thoughts left a metallic aftertaste. "So she's going with you," Olivia assumed. "Good. Tell her to call me when...it's over," she stumbled over the words. "And let me know that you're okay." She bit back the feelings that she knew would come flooding in the moment she was alone. 

"She's not going with me," Alex said quietly, moving to her window and looking at the midnight sky. "She doesn't deal well with hospitals or clinics, not to mention the fact that her husband knocked me up." 

"That's not your fault," Olivia replied immediately. "You can't go alone, Alex." As sickening as the thought was, Olivia knew that she'd go if Alex needed her. 

"Cragen's coming with me," Alex continued, not really hearing what Olivia said. "We booked the hotel room under his name, so the press won't be tipped off. Caroline would use this to destroy us if it ever hit the papers." 

Her throat closed. Her eyes fluttered shut. _So that's what it was._ "I've gotta...go. Call me. Just...tell me you're okay." She grabbed her coat and was gone. 

Alex's cries were encompassed by the slamming of the door, and the attorney broke down, leaning against her window. She covered her mouth with her hands, silencing her sobs. She had expected Olivia to be angry, to walk out, but actually having it happen devastated her more than she'd steeled herself for. She fumbled behind her for her telephone, and dialed Emma's number. Emma's answering machine picked up, and Alex disconnected, figuring her sister was still at the party. She held the phone to her chest for a moment, calming her breathing, and dialed another familiar number. 

"Yeah?" His gruff answer almost made her smile. 

"It's me," she said softly, sinking back onto her couch. 

"You sound like shit. What happened?" 

"I told her," Alex said, wiping streaked tears from her cheeks. 

Cragen released a sigh. "She didn't take it well, I gather." 

Alex snickered. "No. She left." 

"Do you want me to come over?" Cragen swung his legs out of bed, waiting on her answer. 

Alex took a deep breath while considering it. "It's all right," she said after a moment. 

"Alexandra," Cragen said forcefully, "do you want me to come over there?" 

Alex nodded to her reflection in the window. "Would you mind?" 

"Of course not," Cragen replied, pulling out a pair of jeans from his dresser. "I'll be there in twenty minutes." 

* * *

Olivia rapped on the door, not caring if she was waking Emma at this point. She kept herself from pounding by reminding herself that it was nearly three in the morning, and Emma's neighbors wouldn't appreciate her much if she did. 

"I'm coming," Emma called, running a hand through her tangled hair. She looked through the peephole and stepped back in surprise as she saw the disheveled detective. Emma opened the door quickly, blinking. "Olivia? Are you all right?" 

"No." Tears flooded Olivia's eyes and she swallowed the lump in her throat. 

"Hey, hey," Emma soothed, placing a hand on Olivia's back and guiding her inside. She kicked the door shut and led Olivia to the couch. Perching on her coffee table as Olivia sat on the couch, Emma looked at her with sleepily concerned eyes. "What happened?" 

"Alex told me." 

"Oh." Emma drew her lower lip under her teeth and covered Olivia's hands with her own. "I'm sorry." 

"You should be." Olivia's tearful eyes glared at Emma. "How could you not tell me?" 

"It wasn't my secret to tell," Emma replied calmly. "I told her what I thought she should do the minute that test came back positive. But she didn't want to hurt you; she honestly thought that telling you after the fact would hurt less. I had to support her in her decision." 

Olivia shook her head, pulling her hands away from Emma's. "I had a right to know," she muttered, hurt. "If Alex and I have any chance at a life together, I have to know that she trusts me." 

"This wasn't about trusting you, Olivia. This was about shielding you from the pain she was feeling, and the pain her decisions would inflict on you. She wanted to protect you. That said," Emma implored Olivia by capturing her hands again, "you did have a right to know, and I'm sorry I couldn't convince Alexandra otherwise." 

Yanking her hands back this time, Olivia leapt up and started to pace. "This was about not wanting to share a part of herself with me when she could share it with **him**," she surmised. 

"Him who?" Emma's brow furrowed and then she slapped it back into understanding. "This has nothing to do with Donald. Don't be an asshole." 

Turning, Olivia threw all of the rage she was feeling, fairly or not, at Emma. "Fuck you!" she hissed. "The three of you conspired to keep me in the dark, and **I'm** the asshole? Maybe you're right, Emma. Maybe I **am** an asshole - for trusting Alex. And you!" Olivia added, her voice rising with her temper. "I am a grown woman. I know where I come from, but I also know how I feel about Alex. Don't you think that I could've put aside my own history to be there if she needed me?" Angry tears scalded Olivia's cheeks before she scrubbed them away with a quick swipe of her palm. "I didn't need to be protected, but I wasn't even given a chance to decide for myself if I could handle it. You and **Donald** decided **for** me, didn't you, little girl?" The brunette detective shook her head swiftly. "I can't fucking believe you," she continued, enraged. "Of all the people I trust in the world - all **four** - I trusted you the most. Yeah," she cut off Emma's impending confused question, "more than Alex. Jesus Christ, Emma. How **could** you?" Olivia turned and faced the window, raging against the hurt inside her, and hoping Emma could soothe it away. 

"It wasn't my decision," Emma replied quietly, tears of her own slipping silently down her cheeks. "I told her you needed to know, and she shut me out. Told me if I couldn't support her the way she needed me to, that she'd find someone else. You know I would never hurt you. I have been there through everything, stood by you when my sister was the biggest fucking cunt this side of the Mississippi. Don't you think this has been tearing me up, too?" Emma's voice broke, and she cleared her throat in order to continue. "I love you, Olivia. But I also love Alex. I didn't know she'd told Cragen until after I went back to her place a week ago. You have every right to blame her, but don't you dare blame me."

"How can I not?" Olivia pressed a hand to the cold glass of the window. "I expect this from Alex. But Emma..." She choked on the tears and stopped. 

"You being angry with me isn't going to solve anything," Emma said gently, moving closer to the window. "I've loathed myself for the past two weeks, disgusted with myself. The one time I decide to keep my mouth shut, it's a secret that hurts one of the most important people in my life. But I know what it's like to have your secret betrayed before you're ready to confront it, and I always swore I wouldn't do that to anyone else. I wanted to tell you, Liv, so badly it ached. But I just couldn't. I don't know what I'd do if I lost both of you." 

Olivia turned and eyed Emma in confusion. "Lost both of us?" she echoed. "Emma, Alex is your sister." 

"And if I told you, she wouldn't have forgiven me. And you wouldn't have forgiven me for not telling you sooner, or not convincing her to tell you sooner. And then I'd be fucked. Where would I be without you two?" 

Shaking her head, Olivia murmured, "You're not gonna lose us. We're both too stubborn to give up on you." 

"Thank God for that," Emma replied, taking a step closer. "Is she going to lose you?" 

"I - I can't do this now, Em." Olivia swallowed hard. 

"Okay, all right," Emma agreed easily, taking Olivia into a loose, comforting hug. She kissed Olivia's forehead and the detective's cheeks. "I really am sorry," she whispered, resting her forehead against Olivia's. 

Stifling a sob, Olivia tilted her head, resting it on Emma's shoulder. "For once, your height comes in handy," she teased with a watery chuckle. 

Emma chuckled, rubbing circles on Olivia's back. "For once, I don't mind being the Amazon." 

Olivia chuckled again, but her chuckle turned into a gasping breath. "Em, what am I gonna do?" she asked, unnaturally scared. "If Alex doesn't trust me..." She trailed off, wrapping her arms around Emma's waist. 

"I know you don't want to hear this, and you're not going to believe me, but please promise me you won't pummel my oh so beautiful face with your rather large gun when I say what I'm about to say." Emma bent slightly and caught Olivia's eyes. "She does trust you. More than she trusts anybody, including me. She didn't tell you about the pregnancy because she knew your immediate reaction would be back to your own conception, not because she didn't trust you. She came to the conclusion that because of who you are, you might not understand why she made the decision to terminate. And she also knew how hard that would be for you to accept, especially given the fact that there was no way in hell she'd ever see this thing through. Maybe that was all psychobabble she used to alleviate her guilt, but I think it does contain some truth." 

"She should've told me," Olivia insisted, her eyes filling up again. She leaned forward, breaking the eye contact again and resting her cheek against Emma's. 

"I know, honey," Emma said, holding Olivia tightly. "All the explanations in the world can't take that hurt away." 

"Alex is sposta be the one who's there for me," Olivia managed to choke out softly. "But it's always you, Em." 

"You saved my life," Emma replied gently. "It's the least I can do." 

Shaking her head again, Olivia looked up to see Emma's familiar-yet-new blue eyes very close to her. Her heart began to tickle Olivia inside her chest, and she watched Emma with an unreadable expression.

"We'll fix it," Emma said, not really noticing the change in Olivia's features. "We'll get through this together." 

"Promise?" Olivia murmured, inching closer. 

Emma nodded. "Always." 

"Em..." 

Emma expelled a shaky breath. "Yeah?" 

"Why **is** it you're always there when I need you?" Olivia asked softly, her hand gliding up to rest against the back of Emma's neck. 

Emma stuttered, licking her lips, her voice slightly unsteady. "I figure...I figure you're less likely to beat me up if I'm nice to you." 

"You're full of shit," Olivia murmured, her tone making the declaration sound like a seductive request. 

Emma chuckled briefly, drawing her lip back into her mouth. "Well, maybe I just like talking to you. Helping you, if I can." 

"I 'spose it's possible." Olivia grinned shakily. Leaning up, she kissed Emma's lips gently. "Thanks, kiddo." 

Emma returned the kiss lightly, then stepped back with a smile. "You want to crash here tonight? I have frozen pizza and a comforting hug with your name on it." 

"I'd love that." Olivia managed a smile. "I should call Alex first. We didn't exactly leave things well." 

Emma nodded, moving to her end table and tossing Olivia the phone. "I'll go make the pizza." 

"Thanks, Em." Olivia flashed her a grin, swiping at an errant tear. She dialed Alex's number, never doubting for a second that her girlfriend was as torn up as she was. 

* * *

Alex was in the bathroom washing her face when the phone rang. "Who the hell would be calling me at quarter of three?" she wondered, hurrying to the phone. She picked it up and answered with a cautious, "Hello?" 

"Alex, it's me," Olivia said slowly. 

Alex stiffened slightly, resting on the edge of her couch. "Hi," she replied. She'd figured she wouldn't hear from Olivia until at least Monday, if not much, much later. "Where are you?" 

"I'm okay," Olivia assured her. "I just wanted to call and say I'm—" She stopped as she heard a voice in the background. 

"Alexandra Cabot, if you don't get your butt back into this bed, I'll pick you up and do it myself." Cragen came out of the bedroom, not realizing Alex was on the phone. 

Alex waved him away, curling her head into the phone. "You're okay? Are you sure?" 

Olivia's heart leapt into her throat. _'This bed',_ was the phrase her ear picked up on. "Cragen's there?" she asked coolly. 

Alex's pause lasted longer than it probably should have. "Yeah," she finally replied. "I needed to talk." 

Olivia balked at the silence. "Right," she said quickly. "Okay, well, have a safe trip." Her finger hovered over the "end" button. 

"Do you want me to call you tomorrow?" Alex asked, her eyes slipping shut as she felt her relationship slipping into the hovering night. 

"No. I'll...I'll see you when you get back, or whatever. Night." Olivia hung up and dropped her head into her hands. 

"Fuck." Alex tossed the phone onto the couch, her eyes remaining closed. Cragen rested a silent hand on her shoulder, and she looked up at him, all vulnerability. 

"Pizza will be ready in five minutes," Emma announced, coming out of the kitchen. She adjusted her NYU mesh shorts as she walked over to the couch, noticing Olivia's slumped form. "Liv?" she asked quietly. 

Olivia turned and silently buried her face in Emma's stomach, clutching at her waist for all she was worth. 

"Oh, honey," Emma breathed, running her hand over the top of Olivia's cropped hair. She rubbed the detective's back, wondering just what Alexandra had done now. "It's okay," she murmured, "I'm here." 

"She's fucking him," Olivia gasped out between sobbing breaths. Half of her was ashamed that Emma would see her in such a state; the other half realized it was Emma and knew she was safe. 

"What?" Emma replied, aghast. "Liv...what?" 

"Cragen. He's there...and...and I heard him." 

"Oh, babe." Emma's heart broke as Olivia's tears tickled her bare stomach. "She's acting stupidly right now, but she's not that much of a moron. And both of them know that I'll kill them myself if that were true." 

"Emma, I heard him," Olivia insisted, crying harder. "He told her to come back to bed." 

Emma slid down onto the couch, cradling Olivia's head against her shoulder. "I'll kill them," she said seriously, holding Olivia for all she was worth. "I wish I knew what to say, Olivia." 

"You - you can't," Olivia hiccupped. "Just - oh, god, Em." She snuggled into the crook of Emma's neck and cried harder. "It's my fault." 

"No," Emma replied forcefully. "Look at me." She leaned back and guided Olivia's anguished face up with her index finger. "You didn't do anything wrong. If it's true, it was **their** doing, not yours." She wiped Olivia's tears with her thumb. "And why can't I kill 'em? I beat one murder rap, two more wouldn't be that hard." 

Olivia started to chuckle, but it was washed away by a fresh flood of tears. "Emmy..." 

"Shh, shh, shh," Emma drew Olivia back into her arms, rocking gently. "We'll fix it. Together. Like always, remember?" 

"Together," Olivia murmured, managing to stem the tide of tears. The oven buzzed loudly and she sighed, leaning back. 

Emma leaned in and kissed the detective's forehead. "You want something to drink? Water? Coffee? Tequila?" 

"Tequila," Olivia murmured. "I need to forget this day ever happened." 

"You got it," Emma murmured sympathetically. She padded into the kitchen, pulling the pizza out of the oven. She gave them both a couple of slices, and balanced a shot glass on each of their plates. She fished around in her cabinet and pulled out a full bottle of tequila, a present from Jess. Emma curled her arm around the bottle and hoisted the two plates into her hands. She went back out into the living room, bending over and sliding the plates across the coffee table. She poured them both a shot and toasted Olivia. "Togetherness," Emma said, lifting the glass to her lips. 

"Hellish Fridays," Olivia added, knocking back the shot with a sigh.

Emma sat on the couch next to her, bringing the piping hot pizza to her lips. She blew carefully and took a bite, twirling the cheese around her tongue. They ate in silence until Emma refilled their glasses. They didn't toast this time, just knocked the fiery liquid back. 

"Do you think I'm hard to deal with?" Olivia asked, out of the blue, playing with a long string of cheese. 

Emma shook her head, catching a stray dollop of sauce on the corner of her mouth. "Some people might see you as too intense, too obsessed with the job. Or maybe too personally detached. But I don't see you that way; I see you as a kind, warm, generous and loving person. And we all know that what I think matters most." She smiled, circling her index finger around the rim of the shot glass. 

Chuckling softly, Olivia returned her attention to the slice of pizza in her hand. "I just wonder if I didn't push Alex too hard to tell me." 

"I love my sister," Emma prefaced, "but she wants to have her cake and eat it, too. She wants to be in a relationship, but she doesn't understand that doing so implies you have to confide in the other person, let them see your vulnerability. I also think the whole PTSD aftermath thing with Mark has impaired her communication skills. She's continually feeling violated, and refuses to put herself into situations where she feels like that again." For all her ability to be a child, the true Emma Kate, a soulful, introspective woman, was coming out in trying to comfort her friend. 

Impressed by Emma's analysis, Olivia nodded slowly. "I think you're right. I'm not sure that absolves me of all the blame, though," she told her tequila. 

"It does take two to tango," Emma agreed, knocking back another shot. Tequila had always been her claim to fame. "I really think the only thing you've done wrong, though, is your ability to get under her skin, to call her on her bullshit. You've been amazing over the past month; I've told you as much. Your support of her - and of me - was unwavering. How can that be construed as wrong?" 

"Maybe I expected too much of her, especially with the videotape and everything?" Olivia offered, tears filling her eyes again. "That can't have been easy, watching Mark violate her again in front of Caroline." 

"What did you expect from her?" Emma shook her head, confused. "Of course it wasn't easy, but if I recall correctly, you were just as affected as she was." 

Shrugging, Olivia finished her pizza and leaned back with a sigh. "I expected us to get back to normal at some point. I don't know anymore. I'm second-guessing everything I've said since Mark took her." 

"Define 'normal'. Because, I can tell you from experience, she doesn't know what that is anymore. When...that happens to you, you feel like everything you believed in is snatched away from you, and you're left in this black hole with nowhere to go. I told you it wasn't going to be an easy road, but I can understand why you want to leave it all behind." 

"I just want my Alex back." Olivia ducked her head, trying to hide the fresh tears that coursed down her cheeks. 

Emma knocked another shot back and pushed her shot glass across the table. She knelt in front of Olivia, rubbing the detective's knees tenderly. "I know," she whispered, wishing desperately she had something else to say. She had never been good at finding the right words, really, and this time, it left her feeling empty. "I still think that after all this is over, you will. I don't think she's sleeping with Donald. I think she just needed somebody to talk to, and she knew I wouldn't get dressed just to go see her, so he was the next best thing. He knows he can't have her. She still belongs to you." 

Shaking her head violently, Olivia swallowed the bile that rose in her throat at the thought. "Why can't she be more like you?" the detective murmured tearfully. 

"What, you want her to be crazier and less mature?" Emma chided. "Think about it, Olivia. I am her; she is me. We've both been raped, kidnapped, emotionally abused. She has a direction, a plan. I flutter from here to there, stopping when I feel like it. We're not that different." 

"But you can talk about what you're going through. Alex just shuts down - at least, around me." 

Emma thought about that for a minute, then nodded in agreement. "She's never been good at expressing herself. She thinks emotions are a sign of weakness. I think that's partly my fault; I used to drain her dry with all the shit I was going through when she took me out of the house and to school with her. She never really had the opportunity to grieve herself; she was too busy comforting me." 

"Is it my fault?" Olivia pressed, guilt weighing her down. "D'you think she sought him out because I've been spending so much time with you?" Her wet, warm brown eyes met Emma's. 

Emma sighed, biting her lip again. "Maybe," she admitted. "I think, though, she knew Donald wouldn't press her about what she was feeling. He's the most emotionally impotent man I've ever met. You and I, on the other hand, talk it out, express our feelings. That's why we're so compatible," she smiled gently. "I think Alex might just have been trying to find the situation in which she wouldn't have to confront her feelings, and she found that with Cragen." 

Sighing, Olivia cupped Emma's cheek with her hand. She managed a half-smile. "If we're so damn compatible, why am I in love with Alex? Why do I always take the path of most resistance?" 

"Because there's definite sparkage between you and Alex. I also think you two are compatible; look at how you do your jobs, how much you love me," Emma teased, covering Olivia's hand with her own, and brushing her thumb over the detective's knuckles. "I've also never been attracted to a woman before, so it really wouldn't have occurred to me to try and snatch you away from my sister." 

A soft chuckle escaped despite Olivia's best efforts to the contrary. She gripped Emma's hands tightly, losing herself in the blue ocean of the younger woman's eyes. "Before what?" 

"Just in general. I've never dated a woman, seriously found her attractive. I mean, thanks to loads of rum and tequila, I've kissed a woman before, but those were escapades from my much younger and prettier college days." 

Olivia dropped her hand from Emma's cheek, resting it on their joined hands, lying on her knee. Her eyes bored a hole into the blonde as her heart did cartwheels in her chest. 

Emma searched Olivia's face, her own heart palpitating faster, her stomach tying itself in knots. "Stop looking at me, swan," she whispered teasingly, lacing her fingers with Olivia's. 

The line from 'Billy Madison' made Olivia burst out laughing. "Swan," she gasped as she giggled. 

Emma laughed with her, tilting her head back. "I eat pieces of shit like you for breakfast," she continued, quoting 'Happy Gilmore'. 

Olivia roared with laughter, holding her stomach as she gasped out in mock-confusion, "You eat pieces of shit for breakfast?" 

"Yeah...no!" Emma replied, standing and pretending to stomp off. She moved back around the couch, stopping at her CD player. She turned it on and pressed play, trying to break some of the remaining tension in the room. Jonatha Brooke's voice filled the air as she started to ask exactly what they were. 

"Jonatha Brooke?" Olivia asked, surprised. 

Emma nodded, coming back to the couch. She hopped over the edge, sitting behind Olivia and stretching her feet around the detective. She raised her hands to Olivia's shoulders and started to knead lightly. "'What We Are'. My favorite song." 

"Mine, too." Olivia sighed softly as Emma's hands began to drain the tension out of her shoulders. "I don't want to lose her, but I'm getting very tired of fighting with her," she explained to the opposite wall. "When it's us against the world, I'll fight 'till the end. But when it's me against her...I just can't do it much longer, Emma Kate." The name rolled off her tongue as Olivia's eyes slipped shut. 

"It's emotionally draining, especially when she won't give you an inch, and you've given her a mile," Emma agreed, thinking back over more than twenty-five years of arguing with her sister. "I know you said you didn't want to talk about it, but...have you considered leaving her? I don't want you to," she finished hurriedly, "but it worries me to see you so defeated. It's not like you." 

"I hadn't thought about it much until tonight," Olivia admitted. "But if this is how it's going to be...me giving everything I have and getting shafted in return...I love her, Emmy, but it's not worth it." 

This time, it was Emma's eyes that filled with tears, and she nodded silently, still working Olivia's shoulders. "So no nephew?" 

Leaning back against Emma, Olivia craned her neck to look up at the blonde. "Not quite yet." 

Emma sighed, wrapping her arms around Olivia's shoulder and kissing the brunette's temple. "Well, I can still dream. Maybe I'll get another cat in the interim, though." She smiled briefly, then gazed off in the general direction of her kitchen. "I so desperately want to tell you to hang on, give her one more chance...and then I feel traitorous for thinking she just doesn't deserve it." 

"None of us deserve it," Olivia murmured, turning so that she was looking up at Emma. "But I'm gonna keep giving her chances as long as I can take it. I just get so tired. That's why I come here," she said quietly. 

"Mi haven es su haven," Emma replied, curling her foot around Olivia's ankle. "We...if you and Alex split up, we'll still be okay, right?" 

"God, yeah," Olivia breathed, wrapping her arm around Emma's waist. "I'm addicted to this emotional shit," she teased. "I can't give you up." 

Emma chuckled, running her hands over Olivia's shoulder blades. "I can't give me up, either. Just call me Godiva." 

Biting back a hideously kinky comment, Olivia smiled at Emma. "You have great hands," she said, closing her eyes again. 

"Thanks," Emma replied. "I actually took a massage class in college, believe it or not. It counted as my exercise science course requirement." 

"You got an A, didn't you?" 

"A minus, actually. I tried to work a knot out of my instructor's back, and it hurt a little too much, so she dropped my grade. I was going to protest, but then I would have had to show my techniques to the dean of the school, and that was just an ew factor I wasn't willing to deal with." 

"Was he a dirty old man?" Olivia teased. 

"The dirtiest. And short and bald. Call me crazy, but that doesn't exactly sail my ship.  I just really didn't want my second sexual partner to be the dean of the school. Instead, I chose a homicidal sociopathic loo-hoo-ser for that particular honor." 

"Second?" Olivia's eyes flew open. "Mark was only your second?" 

Emma nodded. "Yeah. There was one guy my freshman year of college, and then Mark. There were...two, I think, after Mark and I broke up. Nobody else." 

"Wow. Shelby's in for a treat," Olivia teased, rubbing Emma's knee subconsciously. "All that sexual energy stored up." 

Emma shrugged. "I really don't know what I was thinking letting Erin set me up with her. It's like I told you, I've never actually been with a woman. I'm ready to start dating, but I thought she would set me up with a George or a Steve or something, not a Shelby." 

"Well, it's Erin. You have to specify the gender you want when letting her invade your personal life." Olivia grinned broadly. "But don't worry. I think you'll enjoy it. Even if it's not your gender-of-choice, I think you'll be pleasantly surprised at how much fun a woman can be." 

"And you're using what expertise to tell me that? The lone, crazy broad you've been dating for the past year? Not very convincing," Emma chided, squeezing Olivia's shoulders again. "I think it'll be nice just to get out. I'm going to be straight with her, so to speak, and let her know I've never done that before. If she runs screaming from the restaurant, at least I'll have a nice dinner." 

"Good plan." Olivia's eyes slipped shut as twenty-four hours without sleep started to catch up to her exhausted body. "You shoulda practiced," she murmured with a chuckle, laying her arm on Emma's bent knee and using it to support her leaden head. 

Emma laughed heartily. "I've never been good at dating, period, so think about that sentence and then envision me walking into a gay bar and trying to pick up a woman. That's funnier than Allie trying to cook." 

Giggling softly, Olivia shook her head, prying her eyes open to look at Emma. "I'm sure you could've found someone easier than going to a bar." _Now why the hell did you say that?_

"Where would I look?" Emma replied, gently brushing a stray lock of hair off Olivia's forehead. "All of the gay people I know are either men, or have been in a relationship longer than I've been alive." 

"You're lookin' too hard." Her exhaustion and aching, hurting heart overwhelmed Olivia as she looked up into the gentle blue eyes watching her. 

"Maybe," Emma replied easily, moving slightly so Olivia would sit up. "You're dead to the world," she proclaimed. "You want to steal my bed?" 

"No." Olivia shook her head firmly. "I'll take the couch." She started to shift out of Emma's warm embrace reluctantly. 

"My couch sucks," Emma replied, "but I'm used to falling asleep on it. Take the bed." 

"Emma Kate, do not argue with me." Olivia grinned at her sleepily. "I'm sleeping right here, so get your ass off my bed." 

Emma growled, but relented, moving to her hallway closet and pulling out a blanket and pillow. She situated Olivia as best she could, guiding Olivia's tired head to the pillow. "Get me if you need me," she said with a smile. She turned and cleaned up their mess, leaving it to dwell in the sink overnight. "Good night," she said quietly, heading back to her bed, groaning in silence as the clock read 5:34.

THE END


	13. Salvage

The ringing of the phone jarred her out of the peaceful slumber she'd fought to find. As she fumbled for the portable next to her bed, Emma nearly fell flat on her face as she leaned over to her bedside table. After trying to bark into the remote control, she jabbed at the phone. "Yeah?" she grumbled, her voice like sandpaper. 

"Good morning to you, too," her sister chirped. 

Emma sat up, running a hand through her unruly blonde mane. "You can't talk to me." 

"A sister can't call another sister?" Caroline clucked her tongue. "What has the world come to?" 

Emma sighed, rubbing at her eyes. "What do you want, you little shit?" 

Caroline chuckled, crossing her sleek legs and turning in the rented office to face the New York morning. "Where's Alexandra?" 

Emma's heart stopped briefly. "How should I know? Last time I checked, Alex had her own place." 

"I've left three messages there already, Emma. Where is she?" 

"I'm not my sister's keeper," Emma hedged. "And what makes you think she'd want to talk to you anyway?" 

"Well, I think the fact that her girlfriend stayed at your place last night might be an interesting newsflash worthy of discussion," Caroline replied, unable to contain the sly grin that crossed her Roman features. 

"You little cunt," Emma hissed, leaping out of bed and running into her living room. She rushed to the window, throwing the curtains open, looking across to the old warehouse that sat on the other side of the street. "That's an invasion of privacy! I'll have your license for this." 

"Go ahead and try. I'd love the challenge. Let me make one thing clear to you, Emma. This little dance that we do...I made up the rules. You can't possibly beat me at my own game. You'd be well advised to remember that. I'll see you in court on Monday. Best to Alexandra." Caroline disconnected, determination etched into her cunning features. 

"Fuck!" Emma cried, throwing the portable phone against the faded, mismatched wood of the entertainment center. 

She sat on the couch, feet tucked under her, scrubbing sleep from her eyes. "Caroline?" Olivia asked unnecessarily, watching Emma's face carefully. 

Emma turned back to the window and threw the curtains closed again, feeling violated. The knowledge clung to her like dirt, and she rubbed her bare arms, trying to wash the knowledge and memories away. "She followed us. Or hired someone to follow us. She's figured out Allie's gone, too." 

"Christ." Olivia sprang up and darted for her cell phone. She mentally questioned that her first instinct was to protect a woman who was, at that very moment, breaking her heart. _Masochism runs deep,_ Olivia thought. "Well, at least she can't prove anything," the detective grumbled as she dialed. "We didn't do anything improper." 

"I know," Emma agreed, sinking down on the couch and drawing a throw blanket over her shoulders. "It's so odd. I never thought she could be that sneaky, that corrupt. She's hell-bent on destroying us. Why?"

The ringing of the hotel phone cut off any answer she might've pulled out of her ass. Olivia waited impatiently for Alex's voice. 

"Hello?" Alex's raspy, deep voice matched her sister's, and she smiled weakly as Donald passed her a glass of water. 

"Alex, it's Olivia. I—" She stopped herself. "How are you feeling?" 

"Like I was part of a magic act involving saws that went horribly wrong," Alex replied. "Where are you?" 

"At Emma's." Olivia shrugged apologetically at Emma and disappeared into the blonde's bedroom, shutting the door. "Alex, Caroline called this morning. She knows you're gone, and from the look on Emma's face, I think she's threatening trouble." 

"Shit," Alex sighed. "You know, the longer this goes on, the more I'm starting to hate the idea of family." She rubbed her temple uncomfortably. "I can't fly back today, Liv. I have to be in bed until at least three this afternoon, and I have to get checked tomorrow morning before I'm cleared to fly. Do you think you and Emma can keep her entertained until tomorrow?" 

Olivia glared at the innocent oak door with a fiery rage. "Oh, trust me, we've already started. Apparently, she had someone watching Em's place. They know I never left last night, and Caroline's implying...well, you can guess." 

"All right, here's what we'll do." For the moment, Alex ignored Olivia's statement about her lodgings the previous evening. "Remember the conference I told you I was going to? Technically, I'm registered, and as far as they know, I'm there. I'll have Don run down there and grab some of the information - he can be Alex Cabot for the moment. He'll fly back this afternoon, and I'll head back as planned tomorrow. Caroline won't be looking for him, and when I arrive, if anyone asks where I've been, I'll say the conference. We'll have documentation to back it up." 

Nodding to herself, Olivia agreed. "Sounds good, but I'm more concerned that she'll realize it's a front and pursue the real reason behind your trip." She couldn't give voice to the words just yet. "Make sure your ass is covered." 

"I'll double check and make sure any records at the clinic use a pseudonym." Alex sighed again, the tightness in her chest almost as uncomfortable as the pain in her abdomen. "I'm sorry for all this," she said quietly, looking past Donald and down at the Charles River. 

"It's not your fault," Olivia emphasized quietly, knowing she meant it - regarding the rape and abortion, at the least. The situation with Cragen...well, it could be forgiven, she supposed, but not any time soon. "I can understand how it happened, you know." 

Alex's brow knotted. "Well, yeah. We all took high school biology." 

Sighing silently, Olivia replied, "No, I mean...Cragen. I can see, you know, I was kind of distant - I've been spending so much time with Emma lately. And you were lonely. He's familiar, I get that." Her heart pounded as she acknowledged the end of the happiest year of her life. "I just hope he does better by you this time." 

"Wait, wait, wait." The words were laced with panic. "You don't think—" Alex looked at Donald, motioning to his adjoining room. He rose from the bed and left her alone, the connecting door snicking lightly in to place. "Olivia," she started, her voice dropping to an almost-whisper, "Yes, you and I have been strained. And both of us have been distant. But I'm not now, nor will I be in the future, involved with Cragen. I love you." She took another deep breath. "I don't want us to end. But I know you might, and I know we have a long road back. We've both done some pretty good damage. You tell me what you want." 

Stunned, Olivia took a deep breath, trying to still her shaking hands. "Explain something to me first," she hedged. "The other night, he called you back to bed. **This** bed," she emphasized. 

Alex licked her lips. "I had been lying down. He...he heard me crying and came in. Comforted me. And then you called. He thought I was running away." 

A sickening lump formed in Olivia's stomach. "So nothing happened?" 

"He kissed me goodnight," Alex admitted. "And he held my hair back when I puked. But nothing happened." 

"I thought that was my job," Olivia teased softly, fighting nausea of her own. 

"It is. He was just subbing." Alex brushed her hair out of her face, picking at loose threads on the bedspread. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you." 

"I'm sorry you thought I wouldn't understand." Sighing, Olivia rubbed at her temple, a gnawing pain beginning to irritate her fatigued head. "Alex, all I've ever wanted was to be with you. Think we can manage that?" 

"We're too stubborn to give up on it now," Alex said, relief tiptoeing into her voice. "I want to try." 

"Okay. So I should have sushi waiting for you tomorrow?" 

Alex chuckled. "That would be nice. My flight gets in about 2, if the doctor here clears me." 

"I'll meet you at JFK," Olivia offered quietly. 

"LaGuardia. USAirways shuttle from Logan," Alex amended with a smile. "You want a Red Sox hat?" 

"Perish the thought!" Olivia finally smiled, despite the grave conversation just past. "I'm descended from Yankees folk, remember?" 

"One day, you'll see the light." Alex licked her lips as her lids started to droop. "Listen, the painkillers are starting to set in. Can I call you later?" 

"I'd like that. Take care of yourself," the detective instructed. 

"Will do. Give Emma my love. I'll see you tomorrow." 

"Okay. Love you," Olivia slipped in before hanging up. She opened the bedroom door and slipped into the living room. "Everything's being handled on Alex's end. We just have to figure out what we're going to do about your other sister." 

"All in favor of shooting her between the eyes?" Emma raised her hand, taking a sip of coffee with her other. "How'd she sound?" 

Olivia shrugged, reaching for the mug of coffee Emma had poured for her. "Groggy, but I think she's okay." 

"Good." Emma searched Olivia's face, serene in its porcelain facade. "You better?" 

"I'm fine - just tired from jumping to all those conclusions," she bantered wearily. 

Emma chuckled, taking another sip of the coffee. "I don't think anyone - including me or Alex - could have blamed you." She yawned loudly, her face scrunching up. "I used to function for days on end with five hours of sleep. Where did those days go?" 

As she chuckled softly, Olivia's face spread into a tired grin, her first in a week. "They're about as far behind you as twenty-five. Now, can we stop talking about your ancient past and think about breakfast?" 

* * *

Emma toed the checkered tile of the courthouse corridor with her pump as she waited for her sister and Olivia to arrive. She hadn't seen hide nor hair of the two of them since Alex's return to the city on Sunday afternoon. They had a lot to work out, she knew, but there was still that part of her that wouldn't rest until she knew every detail of the reunion. 

"There are some things you don't need to know," a deep tenor said from behind her. 

Emma spun around, amused. "I hate that you can do that." 

Cragen shrugged. "You're notoriously easy to read." 

Emma smiled and adjusted the deep blue blouse she wore. "You ready to testify?" 

Cragen nodded. "As ready as I'll ever be, I suppose. I'm worried about what Caroline has up her sleeve, though." 

"You're a choir boy," Emma replied. "You've got nothing to worry about." 

Olivia strode into the courthouse, her low-heeled boots clicking on the porcelain tile furiously. Erin and Alex were two steps behind, their hushes tones floating on the air toward the detective. 

Emma couldn't contain the smile as she saw both Olivia's and Alex's confident strides, so long weighed down by the anger and betrayal of the world, had finally returned. "We ready to present our side?" she asked the group. 

Erin smiled at her. "Who's the lawyer here?" she teased. 

Emma shrugged playfully, reaching down behind Donald to pull on the black blazer that matched her skirt. "I was thinking of a career change." 

"God help us all," Alex murmured, following her sister and Erin into the courtroom, aware of Olivia directly behind her. They sat behind the defense table, close enough to take comfort in the other, but far enough apart that no eyebrows would be raised at perceived impropriety. 

"All rise," the bailiff ordered, and Judge Cooper nodded at the attorneys and the jury as she took her seat. "I trust everyone had a good weekend. We'll continue with the plaintiff's testimony, unless Miss Whitney is prepared to rest." 

Caroline rose, offering a slight, fake smile. "Actually, your honor, we have one more witness we'd like to call. He was only just made available to us." 

"Your Honor, I object!" Erin leapt to her feet. "The defense hasn't had a chance to prepare for this witness, we need a short continuance." 

"Counsel, approach." Caroline strolled to the sidebar, and remained calm as Cooper stared her down. "I've been very lenient with you and your unorthodox presentation style, Miss Whitney. Establish relevance now or I'm not allowing this witness." 

"I had approached this witness prior to the trial starting, Your Honor. He was unavailable. He contacted me last evening and requested to testify." 

"To what?" Cooper pressed. 

"It is the defense's argument that Emma Cabot-Miller killed her husband in self-defense and that Detective Benson played no role in her decision to fight back. Our argument has been, and will continue to be, that there is a relationship between the Cabot sisters and Detective Benson that would show premeditation between parties may have been involved. This witness can testify to that." 

"Judge, my objection remains the same. The plaintiff had last night and this morning to interview this witness, defense requests the same." 

Cooper nodded, looking between the two women. "Is the witness here, Miss Whitney?" 

Caroline nodded. "He's outside." 

"Very well. Step back." As the attorneys did so, Judge Cooper addressed the courtroom. "Miss Whitney will bring her witness to my chambers so that Miss Jacobs may have time to prepare. Court is in recess for one hour." Cooper banged her gavel and Caroline grabbed her briefcase, motioning to her co-counsel to go get their witness. She offered a coy smile at Emma and Erin and walked towards the bailiff. 

Emma looked up at Erin with expectant eyes. "Who'd she say it was?" 

"She didn't say," Erin replied, "But we've got an hour to interview him before I get him on cross-examination." She waved Alex and Olivia over and explained the latest of Caroline's ploys. 

Alex shook her head against the gray material of her suit. "Who else could she call? She's called Mark's parents, friends from here and Atlanta. We all know she wants to sink into Emma; why delay that?" 

"I don't know, but let's go find out." Erin headed out into the hallway, waiting for the bailiff to come and escort her and Emma to chambers. She spotted a lone young man, seated on a bench and assumed he was the surprise witness. Striding up to the tall, slender man, she introduced herself. "Erin Jacobs. I'm Emma Cabot's attorney. Are you this afternoon's witness?" 

"That's me. Lieutenant James Marsh." He extended a hand politely and Erin shook it, puzzling over the possible connection; his wasn't a name she recognized. 

Olivia stepped into the hall sideways, her head turned as she spoke to Alex. "—for Pete's sake," she finished distractedly. Turning to catch a glimpse of Erin, Olivia's heart dropped like a stone thrown into a lake. "James." She fought a rush of panic. "Long time no see." 

Emma winced as she put two and two together. "Christmas...three years ago? Oh, shit." She snuck a look at Alex, whose own realization had struck around the same time. In their little game of chess, Caroline had just made checkmate. Marsh could do a huge amount of damage; he had walked in on Alex and Olivia making out on the balcony. He could effectively send both of them reeling out of the closet, unless Erin did some quick thinking, which there wasn't much time for. Emma strode to her attorney and whispered the situation in her ear, finishing with, "Should I call John and see if we can quickly dig anything up on him?" 

"Absolutely; anything he can find," Erin added, stricken. 

"I'll get on it." Emma pulled out her cell phone and discreetly dialed Munch. 

The bailiff walked out of the courtroom and to the gathering of attorneys and cops. "Miss Jacobs, sir, I'll take you to chambers now." 

Marsh stood and followed the bailiff, and his longing gaze lingered just a moment on Olivia's countenance. He shook himself, trailing Erin into the judge's chambers, where Caroline awaited them. 

Emma put a hand on Erin's shoulder as her attorney passed. "I'll be right in." As Erin and Marsh walked with the bailiff, she started talking as Munch picked up the line. "John, it's me. Listen, I need you to find out as much as you can about Lieutenant James Marsh, of the six-two in Brooklyn...yeah, I know. But Carrie's screwed us over again....thanks. Call Alex's cell when you get it." She turned to the remaining women. "Munch is on it." 

"How on Earth did she find him?" Alex pressed. "I'd completely forgotten about him." 

Olivia rested a discreet hand on Alex's shoulder. "Maybe he found her," she theorized. "Our case has been all over the papers. If James is holding a grudge against me, it wouldn't have taken much for him to find Caroline's phone number." 

Alex sat down on the bench next to Olivia. "Have you spoken to him since that night? That's a pretty long time to hold a grudge, even over you." 

"You're absolutely right." Olivia rested her head against the wall, resisting the urge to bang it on the concrete. "I had a case last year, had a connection to the 62nd Precinct. It ended up being SVU's collar, not his team's. I'm sure that didn't help." 

"Well, that gives us a starting point," Emma said. "I should get in there." She squeezed Olivia's hand and smiled at her sister. "Let me know what Munch finds." She turned and headed into the chambers, apologizing to the judge for her tardiness. She started to listen to Erin's questions, noting that there was a slight air of panic from her normally composed attorney. 

"So you really only met these ladies," Erin gestured to Emma, representing the Three Mouseketeers, "once, at a Christmas party three years ago, is that correct?" 

"Yes," Marsh answered coolly. 

"And what evidence do you have to present regarding the plaintiff's case against Emma Cabot?" Erin persisted, her hand flying over the paper as she made notes for her cross-examination. 

Marsh's smirk grew as he sank one nail into the Cabot girls' coffin. "I saw Detective Benson and ADA Cabot kissing at that party." 

Erin met his smirk with one of her own. "Who can verify this alleged incident?" 

"Uh..." Marsh looked to Caroline for help. 

"Your Honor, this is just an evidentiary hearing. No corroboration is necessary. Besides, Lieutenant March knows and understands the punishment associated with perjury better than anyone else. He knows not to lie. It's why we're pressing for him as a witness." Caroline's earnest look almost made Emma ill. 

Stifling her urge to bitchslap Caroline, Erin shook her head. "Civil trial or criminal, Your Honor, the Lieutenant's testimony needs to be corroborated by a second eye- or ear-witness, otherwise it's just hearsay. Besides," Erin added with an excited tone that said she'd just come up with a wicked retort, "I'm told that Mr. Marsh holds a personal vendetta against Detective Benson for a case for which she claimed credit he feels he was due. Therefore, it's entirely plausible that this whole story is a fabrication, dreamed up to damage the Detective's career by insinuation." 

"If I'm not mistaken, Mrs. Miller can corroborate what the Lieutenant is saying. She too was at that party," Caroline finished. 

"I didn't see them doing anything of the sort," Emma retorted. And it was the truth; she had found her sister and Olivia after James had broken up their romantic moment. 

Cooper sat back in her chair, mulling the exchange. "I'm going to allow the Lieutenant's testimony, but on a very short leash, Miss Whitney. He can testify to what he saw. Miss Jacobs will be allowed to cross-examine." 

"Your Honor, that's unduly prejudicial. I can only go so far, but Miss Jacobs has free reign?" Caroline was in disbelief. 

"You want me to say he can't go up on the stand instead?" Cooper replied. "That's not a problem." 

Caroline sat back in her seat. "I'll call him." 

Cooper nodded. "Do you need any more time, Miss Jacobs?" 

"No, ma'am. I believe we're ready to destroy his credibility - I mean, we're ready to proceed." Erin couldn't help the chicken-hawk grin she flashed Judge cooper. 

"Careful, Miss Jacobs," Cooper warned, but there was an amusement to her knowledgeable eyes. "We'll reconvene in ten minutes." She motioned to the door, and the four parties rose, Emma shaking her head the entire way out. "It's a shame your face froze like that, Caroline." 

"Emma, I'm hurt you couldn't think up a better banter line than that. See you in court." Caroline took Marsh by the arm and headed back into the courtroom. 

Emma leaned against the wall outside Cooper's chambers and looked at her friend. "How bad is it?" 

"Pretty bad," Erin acknowledged, rubbing the back of her neck, a disgusted expression on her porcelain face. "He's gonna get up there and out Olivia and Alex, and there's not a damn thing I can do about it, because it's allegedly relevant to the situation at hand. Best I can hope for is to attack his credibility, and put forth the theory that any alleged relationship with Alex would make Olivia less likely to help you kill your husband, not more." Turning, she spotted Alex and Olivia down the hall. 

"Did Detective Munch say when he'd call back?" Erin asked Emma, her eyes never wavering from the women, yards away. 

"As soon as he found anything," Emma replied, sighing. "Would it damage my credibility to pummel Caroline to death?" 

"A little," Erin chuckled. "Don'tcha love how she keeps calling you 'Mrs. Miller'? I swear she's baiting you." 

"Oh, she is. She's just waiting for me to bust a cap in her ass." Emma tilted her head back against the wall for a moment. "Let's go see if John pulled anything up on our not-so-good friend Mr. Marsh." 

Erin strode over to Alex and inquired after the investigation. 

"He's pretty clean," Alex offered, pocketing her cell phone. "One IAB investigation for his interrogation tactics in a drug-running case. He was cleared." 

"Who was the IAB investigator?" Emma asked. 

Alex shook her head, reading her sister's mind. "Not Sims, so no connection there." 

"Fuck," Emma returned. "We'll just have to go with the no corroboration tactic, and the fact that Olivia pissed on his territory. Olivia can testify to how territorial beat cops can get when you call her later, Erin." 

"Thanks, Em. I did go to law school." Erin grinned to show that she wasn't angry, or worried. "Let's go shred us a witness." 

Emma chuckled, following the women back into the courtroom. She took her seat again, picking up her pen and continuing her doodles on the pad Erin had placed in front of her. 

Alex took her designated seat behind them and spoke quietly to Olivia as the detective sat next to her. "You're awfully quiet." 

"I'm a little worried," Olivia admitted. "You know how cops can be. Even if Caroline can't provide evidence of our relationship," she murmured the word, "sufficient for a court of law, all the court of public opinion needs is a juicy rumor and my career could be shot. Even with Cragen's support," the detective added. 

Alex sighed silently, shaking her head minutely in her older sister's general direction. Caroline sat primly, a satisfied smirk on her face as the judge called the court back to order. 

"Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, I have allowed Miss Whitney to call one final witness before she rests her case. Miss Whitney, you may proceed." 

Caroline looked to the back of the courtroom, catching Alex's angry steel eyes as she did so. "I would like to call Lieutenant James Marsh of the NYPD, Your Honor." 

Marsh strode up the aisle and took his place on the witness stand, swearing to tell the truth. He caught Olivia's eye from across the room and shook his head, his deep blue eyes relegated to a sad sapphire. 

Caroline had him state his name and occupation for the record, trying to insert a list of his accolades. Erin quickly stipulated to his excellent record and stopped the tactic dead. "Lieutenant Marsh, how did you come to know Detective Olivia Benson?" Caroline's deep alto was syrupy sweet. 

"Detective Benson and I met four years ago. We were in a continuing education course together at the Academy - a forensics refresher," he explained. "We went for a beer the night that the class finished, and we struck up a friendship." 

"And how did you come to know Emma Cabot-Miller, Lieutenant?"   
"Liv - Detective Benson," Marsh fumbled, and Olivia was certain it was a planned

'mistake', "invited me to Mrs. Miller's Christmas party, three years ago." 

"And you attended, as Detective Benson's date, isn't that right?" Caroline parked herself against the jury box, as if she and Marsh were having a leisurely chat. 

"Yeah, that's right," Marsh replied, letting Caroline guide his testimony. 

"Who did you have the opportunity to meet at this party, Lieutenant?" 

"Alexandra Cabot, Mrs. Miller's sister," Marsh said easily. 

"Think back to that night, Lieutenant. Were you and Detective Benson together the whole time?" 

Erin stood wearily, letting her body voice her exhaustion with the plaintiff counsel's dirty tricks. "Objection, Your Honor. She's obviously leading the witness." 

"I'll rephrase if Miss Jacobs prefers smaller words, Your Honor," Caroline replied, turning back to Marsh. "What did you do at the party, James?" 

"First, we got a cup of coffee," Marsh testified. "Then Olivia saw Miss Cabot, and introduced us. They went out onto the balcony to talk after that." 

"How long were they out on the balcony?" Caroline continued. 

"At least half an hour. I remember thinking they were gonna freeze to death if they stayed much longer, 'cause it was like thirty degrees that night." 

"Thirty minutes is an awfully long time to leave you by yourself. What did you do after that half hour had elapsed?" 

Marsh met Olivia's eyes and had to turn away as he continued to testify. "I went to find them." 

"And where did you find them?" Caroline asked, moving so that the jury would be able to see Emma's, Olivia's and Alexandra's faces when Marsh delivered the final blows. 

"On the balcony, together." 

Erin debated objecting, but knew that any move to intercept Marsh's testimony would be seen by the jury as an admission to the story he was weaving. 

"What were they doing on the balcony?" Caroline asked, slinking towards the witness stand, barely able to contain her glee. 

"They were kissing." Marsh eyed Olivia with a smug expression, which she thought contained more than a hint of 'bet you're sorry you dumped me' giddy revenge. "More than kissing, actually. Olivia's hand was up Miss Cabot's dress." 

"Objection! The witness is speculating," Erin threw out. 

"Overruled," Cooper replied. "The witness may continue." 

"Keep in mind you're under oath, Lieutenant. Are you sure you saw Detective Benson with her hand up ADA Cabot's dress?" Caroline pressed. 

"I'm positive. I was standing behind them, but I could clearly only see one of her hands." 

"Objection, relevance?" Erin tried again. 

"I have to agree. Reign it back in, Miss Whitney," Judge Cooper warned. 

"Lieutenant Marsh, why did you decide you wanted to testify in this trial?" Caroline's voice dropped to a supportive, tender tone. 

"I just wanted to do the right thing." Marsh did everything but bat his lashes. 

"Thank you, Lieutenant. Your witness," Caroline strode to her seat. 

Erin stood and stretched discreetly, striding over to the witness stand. Plopping both hands on the lip of the stand, the brunette attorney leaned over in a conversational manner and smiled disarmingly at Marsh. "So, Jimmy," Erin began, "how big **is** that bug up your ass?" 

"Objection!" Caroline roared to life, chest heaving in disdain. 

Cooper coughed to cover her laugh. "Sustained. Really, Miss Jacobs." 

Erin grinned with absolutely no apology in her tone. "I apologize, Your Honor. I'll rephrase." She turned back to Marsh. "Lieutenant Marsh, isn't it true that just last year, Detective Benson cracked a case involving your precinct?" 

"Yes," Marsh answered stiffly. 

"And isn't it true that you felt you deserved credit for that case?" Erin prodded. 

"Yes. We did all the work," Marsh began to explain. 

Erin cut him off. "'Yes' is sufficient. Now, Lieutenant, isn't it true that you're here testifying today to get revenge against Detective Benson for stealing your collar?" 

"Objection, Your Honor. Not only is that question leading, but she's badgering the witness." Caroline was bordering on annoyed. 

"Overruled. The witness may answer." 

James frowned. "No, that's not why I'm here." 

Erin moved in for the kill. "Oh, so you're here to get revenge for being dumped?" She knew she was on thin ice, but still quite a way from being charged with contempt of court. 

"Your Honor," Caroline pleaded. 

Cooper nodded. "All right, Miss Jacobs, you've had your fun." 

"Yes, ma'am." Erin cleared her throat and straightened her suit jacket. "Lieutenant Marsh, do you have anyone who can corroborate your story about the events of Christmas Eve, 1999?" 

"Yes. Mrs. Miller was there when I left, she saw what happened," Marsh offered. 

"Anyone who isn't on trial here today?" Erin re-defined. 

"No," Marsh admitted. 

Narrowing her eyes, Erin nodded, as if she'd expected the answer. "That's what I thought. Now, Lieutenant, let's address what you thought you saw on the balcony that night. You say you stepped outside and saw Detective Benson with her hand under ADA Cabot's dress, is that correct?" 

Marsh's expression had gone from smug to distressed in a heartbeat. "Yes." 

"How much light was there on the balcony?" Erin asked. 

"Enough to see." 

Erin leaned in. "By what - a street light? The light from inside the apartment?" 

"Street lights." Marsh shifted, uncomfortable in the hard wooden chair. 

Erin feigned surprise. "But Ms. Cabot's apartment at the time was on the seventh floor, wasn't it? An older neighborhood of walk-up apartments, if I remember correctly." 

Marsh glared at Erin. "Yeah, but I could still see." 

"Lieutenant Marsh," Erin said in a slithering tone, "how long were you on the balcony in question?" 

"A couple of minutes." 

"Long enough to note that the apartment backed onto the unlit courtyard, not the street-front, which would've been the only area lit by streetlamps," Erin declared triumphantly. 

"Your Honor, counsel is testifying," Caroline objected, and Cooper nodded again. "Ask a question, Miss Jacobs." 

"Yes, Your Honor. Lieutenant Marsh, did you notice the lack of street lights during your rushed visit to Ms. Cabot's balcony?" Erin was fairly glowing with the tiny victory. 

"Maybe. I don't remember." 

"Funny, you remember everything else so clearly. Withdrawn," Erin declared before the judge could reprove her again. "Now, when you rushed out onto the balcony, into the dark, what was your state of mind?" 

Marsh shrugged. "I was worried about Olivia." 

"Lieutenant, isn't it true that earlier in the evening, you had pressed Detective Benson to have sexual intercourse with you, and she refused to do so?" Erin froze him with a glare. 

"Uh..." 

The attorney continued, going for the prophetic jugular. "And isn't it true that when you rushed out onto the balcony, it was in the hopes of coaxing Detective Benson away from her friend's party and back to your apartment, so you could have your way with her?" 

"No!" Marsh growled. 

Seething silently, Erin continued her assault. "Isn't it true that you're here today because Detective Benson didn't give you what you wanted?" 

"No!" James barked. "She did! I mean, we made love," he corrected, his forehead sparkling with sweat under Erin's cross-examination. 

Erin rocked back on her heels, glancing toward Olivia with a barely-concealed look of shock. That wasn't how the night had been related to her, in the hallway, moments before. "Is it your testimony that you and Detective Benson engaged in intercourse the night of Ms. Miller's party?" 

"No," Marsh said, quieter now, "the week before, after our second date." 

Erin saw the spin and lunged for it before Caroline could open her mouth to object. "So, Lieutenant Marsh, how do you explain Detective Benson's sudden change of sexual orientation that you claim to have witnessed?" 

Even without grounds, Caroline was out of her seat. "Objection, Your Honor!" 

Judge Cooper shook her head. "I'll allow it. Please answer the question, Lieutenant." 

"I - I can't." The look Marsh shot Olivia's way was of genuine hurt. 

"Do you think maybe you were mistaken about what you saw that night?" Erin asked evenly. 

"No." 

Erin sighed mentally. "It's possible that you mistook a friendly hug for something more, isn't it, Lieutenant?" 

"I - I guess it's possible." 

"Thank you, Lieutenant. No more questions, Your Honor." 

"Thank you, Lieutenant," Judge Cooper echoed.  "You may step down." Cooper waited until Marsh had passed the jury box and found a seat in the gallery before continuing. "Miss Whitney?" 

Caroline rose, being sure not to let the jury see how disappointed she was in the failure of her surprise tactic. "The plaintiffs rest, Your Honor." 

"Thank you, Miss Whitney. Miss Jacobs, are you ready?" 

"Yes, Your Honor. I'd like to call Detective Olivia Benson as my first witness." 

"Detective Benson, please take the stand," Cooper motioned to her. 

After Olivia had been sworn in, Erin approached the witness stand. "Detective Benson, when did you first come to know Alexandra and Emma Cabot?" 

"Approximately five years ago, Emma was kidnapped by her stepfather, Peter Kelleher, and late husband, Mark Miller. My partner and I were the lead detectives on her case." 

"And you met Alexandra Cabot during the course of that investigation?" 

Olivia tried to maintain eye contact with Erin, not letting her gaze wander toward Alex or Emma. "That's correct. She came down to Manhattan to provide information regarding her sister and assist in the investigation of her disappearance." 

"How would you characterize the nature of your relationships with the Cabot sisters, Detective?" Erin asked, moving so that the jury could see the loving half-smile on Emma's face. 

A matching smile worked its way across Olivia's mouth. "Emma and I have a deep, personal friendship," she replied, "and Alex and I have that, as well as our effective working relationship." 

Erin smiled briefly before thinking over the line of questioning in her head. It was going to be tricky, working out the semantics to ensure that Olivia wouldn't lie on the stand. "Detective Benson, you're a sex crimes detective, isn't that right?" 

"Yes." 

"That case load must be rather difficult," Erin said, crossing her arms. 

"It can be," Olivia acknowledged. "We see the worst of humanity." 

"Has there ever been an incident where the law was of no help to you or your fellow detectives?" Erin queried. 

"Objection, Your Honor. Relevance?" Caroline raised her eyebrows. 

"If Her Honor will give me two minutes, I can establish relevance," Erin replied. 

Judge Cooper nodded. "Overruled, for now." 

"Yes, I can think of several incidents, one in particular," Olivia replied. "I was temporarily assigned a new partner, Detective Tutuola. We were working a case in the neighborhood he grew up in, involving his high school friend's murder. When it became clear that his friend's murderer would go free, Detective Tutuola became exceptionally angry." Olivia paused for breath, trying to keep the memory out of the present, in the past where it belonged. "He spoke about killing the suspect, against whom we had a mountain of evidence at the time." 

"That's a pretty serious idea," Erin said. "Were you angry that the suspect might not be charged?" 

"Alex had pretty much assured us that the case was 'unprosecutable', in her words. Fin - Detective Tutuola - was understandably upset that his friend's killer would go unpunished. We all thought he was serious about killing the perp," the detective added. 

"What were your feelings about the case? Were you as angry as Detective Tutuola?" 

"Just about. I tend to get very involved in my cases," Olivia admitted. "This was a young black man from the ghetto, pulling himself up by his bootstraps, so to speak. He'd grown up with nothing and was putting himself through medical school, when he was gunned down by a local gang leader for a perceived slight against the gang leader's girlfriend." Sighing, Olivia shook her head slowly. "It was enough to make Mother Teresa angry." 

"Did you ever consider going along with Detective Tutuola's plan?" Erin asked, watching Caroline preparing herself to object again. 

"No," Olivia replied emphatically. "As much as I admire and respect Detective Tutuola, I knew that nothing good would come of our turning into vigilantes. I stayed with Fin for three nights, helping him work through the anger he felt toward the man who had killed his friend. Despite our best efforts, that man is walking the streets today." _But if he'd laid a hand on Emma, he'd be worm food,_ Olivia thought. 

Erin nodded in understanding, turning toward the jury box and gesturing for effect. "So, in your mind, it's unacceptable for an individual - police or citizen - to take the law into their own hands, is that correct?" 

Olivia nodded quickly. "Absolutely unacceptable." _Unless he's a sociopath who kidnapped and raped you and your sister._

"Detective Benson, did you speak with Emma Cabot on the day her husband died?" There was no way to avoid the tough questions. 

"Yes, ma'am, I did." Olivia knew Erin could guide her around the truth, revealing just enough to be truthful, but not enough to condemn Emma for what she'd done. 

"Was this conversation over the phone or in person?" Erin asked. 

"Over the phone. I was with Alex at the time Emma called." Realizing what she'd said, Olivia hastened to add, "My partner and I had just discovered her, unconscious, where Mark Miller had left her to die." 

"Objection!" Caroline finally leapt to her feet. "That comment is unduly prejudicial, since Mr. Miller was never tried or convicted for the crime in question."

"Sustained. The jury will disregard the last part of Detective Benson's statement, regarding Mr. Miller." Cooper motioned to Erin to continue. 

"During that phone conversation, Detective Benson, did Emma Cabot ever tell you to come to her apartment and shoot her late husband?" Erin pressed, her words enunciated so that the jury would understand the weight of the question. 

"No, she did not." Olivia held her breath, knowing she wouldn't relax again until this was all over. 

"Also during that phone conversation, Detective, did Emma ever relay a plan to you that she was going to lure her husband to their former residence and kill him herself?" 

"No, she did not." 

"Detective, how many cases of battered and abused women have you investigated during your years with the NYPD?" Erin nodded ever so slightly, letting Olivia know it was almost over. 

"Probably over a hundred," Olivia replied, her stomach queasy in anticipation of being cross-examined by Caroline. 

"Do you feel you know and understand the dynamics of such a relationship?" 

"Very well. I, myself, was in an abusive relationship for a year years," Olivia added quietly. 

Erin tilted her head, not having realized this tidbit of information. "With your personal and professional knowledge, and understanding of Mark Miller's tendencies towards his wife, have you drawn any conclusions as to what would have happened to Emma Cabot that day, if you hadn't arrived?" 

"Yes, I can. Without a doubt, Mark - having realized that Emma was slipping out of his sphere of control - had become enraged. If I hadn't arrived, he would've beaten her to death within minutes." 

"One final question, Detective," Erin said, stepping back and preparing to head back to the table, "What made you go there that day?" 

"I was worried about Emma and wanted to take her into protective custody until such time as her husband was imprisoned for the crimes he **allegedly** committed against Alexandra." Olivia steeled herself for what was to come next. 

Erin contradicted herself by asking one more question. "So you had no intention of going there and killing him, is that right?" 

"Correct." 

"Thank you, Detective Benson." Erin stepped back and nodded encouragingly as she sat, and Caroline rose. 

"Detective Benson," Caroline drawled, an amused smile on her face. "Are you in love with Alexandra Cabot?" 

"Objection!" Erin nearly knocked herself off balance with how quickly she leapt up. "Relevance, Your Honor?" 

Caroline turned. "Your Honor, it is our belief that Detective Benson shot and killed Mark Miller because of her relationship with Emma Cabot, a relationship she established because of her connection to Alexandra Cabot, a connection she's already admitted to." 

"The Detective has already testified she didn't kill Mark Miller for Emma Cabot, or anyone else. She shot him because he was a danger." Erin was quickly losing patience. 

There was a long silence as Cooper mulled the objection. "I have to overrule the objection. Miss Whitney's theory of the crime has not yet been entered into evidence with this witness. Miss Jacobs may re-cross." Cooper turned, a sorrowful edge to her eyes. "Please answer the question, Detective Benson." 

"Please repeat the question," Olivia requested icily, hoping Caroline would change her phrasing enough for the detective to avoid perjuring herself. 

"Are you in love with Alexandra Cabot?" Her words equally icy and staccatoed, Caroline took a rather menacing step towards the witness stand. "Don't forget, you're under oath." 

Erin was out of her seat in an instant. "Your Honor, she's badgering the witness!" 

"Take a step back and a deep breath, Miss Whitney," the judge ordered. 

"I apologize," Caroline addressed the court, and turned back to Olivia with a self-satisfied smirk on her face. "I didn't hear your answer, Detective." 

Hating herself with every syllable, Olivia replied coolly, "No, I am not." 

Caroline quirked an eyebrow and crossed her arms. "You do understand you've sworn to tell the truth, Detective." 

Erin threw up her hands. "Was there a question there?" 

"Detective, do you understand that you've sworn to tell the truth on all of the questions I ask you, not just those that would keep you and your girlfriend in the closet?" 

Erin was now nearly on top of the table. "Your Honor, this is absolutely—" 

Cooper cut her off. "Miss Whitney, you will ask a question relevant to these proceedings, or you will be spending tonight in a jail cell. No more warnings. Move on." 

Caroline licked her lips and went back to her table, picking up her legal pad. "Detective Benson, were you or were you not kissing Alexandra Cabot on Emma Cabot's balcony three years ago around Christmastime?" 

"No, I was not." Olivia felt sick to her stomach. 

"So Lieutenant Marsh is blind and consumed with a slighted rage because you didn't sleep with him after your third date?" Caroline smiled, fishing around her pile of papers, waiting for Olivia to answer before she could pounce on the next inquiry. 

"I wouldn't say that. I think he mistook what he saw for a romantic encounter." 

"That's a pretty big mistake," Caroline strode towards the witness box, a small slip of paper in her hand. "Detective Benson, who is Jessica Marshall?" 

"She's a friend of Emma Cabot's, an acquaintance of mine." 

"Do you know what Miss Marshall does for a living?" 

Olivia frowned, trying to figure out where Caroline was headed. "I believe she's a florist." 

"Very good, Detective. Have you ever employed Miss Marshall's talents in your personal life?" Caroline fingered the slip of paper, preparing to show it to Olivia. 

Wary of perjuring herself, Olivia replied honestly, "I don't recall. I may have." 

"Plaintiff's Four, Your Honor. A receipt for the purchase of two dozen roses from Miss Marshall's flower shop four months ago. Detective Benson, is that your credit card number and signature?" Caroline handed her the paper, an amused tilt to her head. 

Sucking in a slow breath, Olivia nodded. "It appears to be." Suddenly, it all clicked. 

"Detective Benson, would you mind reading the delivery address on the slip for the court?" 

Olivia read it aloud, a sinking feeling in her chest. 

"Alexandra Cabot at the Manhattan DA's Office," Caroline repeated. "Detective Benson, why did you send the ADA two dozen roses?" 

Thinking fast, Olivia had a reply on the tip of her tongue. 'A thank-you from the SVU squad,' she'd say. 'Thank you for a job well done; we collected cash and I put it on my credit card.' A simple enough explanation. The detective looked up defiantly, ready to throw Caroline's surprise back in her face, when she caught sight of Emma at the defense's table. 

Emma's eyes were soft and loving, laced with exhaustion. She nodded her head, her eyes sliding shut with the motion. Her eyes slowly turned defiantly encouraging and her nod more obvious. She knew Olivia could read her expression and thoughts. _It's okay. Really, it is. Be proud of who you are, all that you've found. I'll be okay._

Olivia glanced once at Erin for confirmation, who just nodded. Her gaze slid to Caroline's face. "Because I wanted to thank her for a lovely evening." 

Caroline fell over her next question. "Excuse me?" 

Erin rose, an admiring smile on her face. "Asked and answered, Your Honor." 

"Sustained," Cooper said quietly. 

Caroline looked downright confused for a moment, but continued anyway. "A lovely evening? Were there romantic overtones to this evening, Detective Benson?" 

"No," Olivia answered honestly. "Alex spent the night listening to me talk about a case I was having difficulties with." 

It wasn't as damaging as Caroline had hoped. "Was this the first time Alexandra had done such a personal thing?" 

Olivia might have decided to be honest, but she sure as hell wasn't going to do Caroline's damn job for her. "Not by a long shot. Alex and I have been good friends for years." 

"Good friends who sleep together?" 

"We have," Olivia admitted, and waited for the jury's gasps to subside. "While Alexandra's apartment was being fumigated, she stayed with me. I had a studio apartment at the time, so I guess technically we 'slept together'." She could barely contain her shit-eating grin. _Come and get me, Caroline._

Emma couldn't contain the little burst of laughter that escaped her mouth. Alex had a similar expression as she watched from the gallery. 

"Let me get this straight," Caroline tried one more time. "Are you, or are you not, in a sexual, romantic relationship with Alexandra Cabot?" 

"I am one hundred percent in love with your sister, counselor," Olivia admitted, feeling a rush of relief mingling with dread in the pit of her stomach. One of them would lose their job over their relationship, she and Alex both knew that; but it was time to stop hiding. "I want to spend the rest of my life with her." Olivia was gazing at Alex, her longing look apparent for the entire courtroom to see. Dragging her eyes away from her lover, Olivia focused a sharp glare on Caroline's face. "**However**, I didn't premeditate Mark Miller's murder with Emma, period. The greatest love in the world couldn't make me kill someone in cold blood." 

Emma wanted to burst into applause, but a stern hand over hers, and an even sterner look from Erin stopped any movement Emma could have considered. 

Caroline stepped back, satisfied. "Why should we believe that, Detective Benson? You lied for the first half of this hearing." 

"I never lied," Olivia insisted. "I simply chose not to reveal our relationship to the court until such time as I could no longer hide it without perjuring myself." 

Caroline shrugged disbelievingly before turning back to the judge. "No more questions, Your Honor." 

Erin rose. "Redirect, Your Honor?" 

"Briefly," Cooper allowed. 

"Detective Benson, do you know the possible ramifications for the declaration you've put forth in this courtroom?" Erin stood next to Emma, but allowed Olivia a clear shot of Alex. 

"Yes, I do, very well." Olivia gave Alex a reassuring smile. "Most likely, my career is over, if not Alex's as well, at least in Manhattan." 

Both Alex and Erin offered supportive smiles. "Once more, for the record, Detective: did you and Emma Cabot conspire to kill Mark Miller on the date in question?" 

"No, we did not." 

"Thank you, Detective." Erin turned to the judge. "I have no more questions for this witness." 

Cooper nodded. "Thank you, Detective Benson. You are dismissed." Cooper glanced down at the small clock on the bench. "We'll recess for lunch and reconvene back here at one o'clock." She banged her gavel and exited. Only her bailiff saw the proud smile on her face. 

Emma's eyes were teary as Olivia passed her. She watched as her sister embraced Olivia tightly, kissing her cheek. 

* * *

The pounding in her ears echoed in person as Judge Cooper rattled her gavel against her dais. For a fleeting moment, Emma thought it sounded like a Bible thumping the pulpit, but she squared her shoulders and let out a deep breath. During lunch, she had pulled Erin aside and told her she wanted to testify today. There was no use in putting Alex on the stand; she knew the jury wanted to hear her side of it, and nothing more. They needed to do damage control, and quickly. She was willing to sacrifice herself, but not her sister. Erin had relented after most of the hour, and now Emma's stomach was revolting as the witness stand loomed before her. 

"Miss Jacobs, are you ready to continue?" Cooper asked, and Emma looked up at Erin, who was addressing the court. 

"Yes, Your Honor. The defense calls Emma Cabot." 

There was a soft murmur in the courtroom as Emma stood, making sure her skirt wasn't tucked into her pantyhose or anything equally hideous. She brushed her hand against Alexandra's as she passed, and as she situated herself on the stand, she offered a smile with her eyes to the gathering of supporters in the courtroom. 

The bailiff swore her in, his thick New York accent making the oath seem caught between solemn and amusing in some way. _Finding humor to appease your fears._ It was something Huang had said to her time and again, and she couldn't help but smile nervously as the bailiff asked her to state her name and birthday for the record. "Em—" she cleared her throat, shooting the jury another smile. "Sorry, I'm a little nervous. Emma Katherine Cabot. My birthday is November 15th, 1974." 

Erin approached the witness stand, careful to keep her face neutral. "Miss Cabot, can you tell me how you came to make the acquaintance of Mark Miller, your late husband?" 

"I met Mark at Boston College during my sophomore year of college. We dated briefly in college, and after graduation, I came to New York. I ran into him about a year after that, and we struck up a friendship again. We started dating again two years later." Emma worked her fingers in her lap, the shades morphing from red to white. She looked into the faces of the jurors, surprised by the curiosity and compassion she saw there. She relaxed slightly and looked back at Erin. 

"And when you began seeing Mark again, did you have any idea that he was responsible for orchestrating your kidnapping not three months prior?" Erin held her breath, waiting for Caroline's objection. 

Caroline didn't disappoint. "Counsel is leading the witness, Your Honor." 

"Sustained. Rephrase, Miss Jacobs." Cooper looked over the rims of her bifocals at the attorneys. 

"When did you come to believe that your husband had secrets?" 

"To be honest, I didn't know he had any until a subsequent police investigation into my kidnapping and rape had been completed," Emma said, with a slight shrug of her shoulders. "Detectives Benson and Stabler ran some trace evidence that linked Mark to the crimes." 

Caroline rose again, bored. "Objection, Your Honor. The witness is speculating to hearsay." 

"Sustained. Miss Cabot, did you, without the assistance of the police or the District Attorney's office, catch your husband in a lie?" Cooper tried to clarify the question without completely striking the line of questioning from the record.

Emma thought hard. "Not at the time," she answered honestly, facing the judge. "There are so many little things in retrospect, though; he never let me pay the phone bills because of all the long distance phone calls to Connecticut and Atlanta. I found them when I moved to my new apartment." 

Cooper nodded. "Please continue, Miss Jacobs." 

Erin sighed discreetly; this was an uphill battle. Striking on an idea, she leaned against the witness stand, trying to draw a comfortable air around them, to make Emma forget she was testifying in a courtroom. "Emma," Erin said gently, "can you tell me about the days leading up to your husband's death?" 

"They were hell," Emma started, her voice dropping. "I didn't feel safe, even with three deadbolts and two chains on the door, plus a 24-hour police guard outside my building. I kept feeling like I was being watched, followed. And then I got the call about Alex." She looked past her attorney and linked eyes with her sister, and her eyes started to water. "Detective Benson called me and told me she'd been taken." Emma shook her head, taking another deep breath. "I didn't know what to think. I was so scared; more terrified than I'd ever been in my entire life. And that's saying something," she chuckled, wadding up a Kleenex in her fist. "I was so certain he'd kill her. And when they found her, lying there..." Emma trailed off, squeezing her eyes shut at the sensory memory of her sister's videotaped horrors. She cleared her throat. When she continued, her voice was deep and touched. "There is nothing more debilitating than seeing the strongest person you know lying in a hospital bed because of a choice you made." Emma shook her head. "I lived in a constant state of fear, not eating and barely sleeping." 

"What about that night, Emma?" Erin's voice echoed sharply against the cold marble of the silent courtroom's floor. 

Emma licked her lips, her fingers nervously playing at the pendant that hung around her throat. After a moment, she began relaying the tale, her voice returning to hoarse and self-conscious. "I didn't have the guts to go to the hospital right away after Olivia called me. I heard the fear in her voice, and coming from such a seasoned professional, it really scared me. So I started walking, thinking of anything to do, trying to keep my mind off my sister. I ended up back at my old apartment. I called Olivia to see how Alex was, and then I went upstairs. I played around in the kitchen a little bit, just walking around, trying to understand how everything felt so foreign. And then Mark showed up." 

"You weren't expecting him?" Erin clarified. 

Emma shook her head. "Not consciously. I should have; he was still living there. I had been the one to file for divorce and move out, but I wasn't really thinking about that at the time." 

Erin nodded slowly, unwilling to break the enraptured mood that Emma had cast over the jury. One thing was certain: she played to their hearts. "What happened when Mark showed up?" the attorney asked quietly. 

"He saw me there and just started...talking about how I was back, how I was always his. It was really disconcerting. I tried to leave. I tried to pretend my cell phone rang, but," Emma paused to clear her throat, "he didn't believe it. He started getting angry, walking towards me. I backed up into the small hallway leading to the bedroom. There was a closet behind me, and I reached in, trying to find something to scare him with. I picked up his baseball bat and swung." She took a deep breath, looking past the attorneys and to her sister and Olivia, chin trembling. The vulnerability was weighing on her, but she had to continue. "I think I hit him a couple of times, but he had at least four inches on me, and he was a strong guy, so he grabbed it right out of my hands. I ran to the kitchen and got a knife." Emma sniffled again, exhaling through her mouth as tears started to form. It was an odd feeling, crying over the man who had desecrated her life so fully. But she too could tell the jury wanted to feel sorry for her. She let them. 

Olivia reached for Alex's hand, sliding her curled fingers into the warm confines of the blonde's cupped palm. She tried to send Emma all the psychic strength she could, watching the youngest Cabot's notorious strength withering under the harsh glare of the courtroom's lights. 

Alex squeezed Olivia's hand back, running her thumb over the brunette's knuckles. There would always be that part of her that wanted to shield Emma from the horrors of the world, even though she'd long ago learned that her younger sister had seen more of them than she ever would. She smiled at Emma and nodded, a similar gesture to the one Emma had sent Olivia during the detective's testimony.

"Just a few more questions," Erin promised, feeling slightly guilty as she watched Emma's face dissolve into unshed tears. "Emma, Olivia Benson testified that you spoke to her the night she shot your husband. Did you conspire with her to kill Mark, as the plaintiff," she sneered the word, "has insinuated with this lawsuit?" 

Emma glanced over at her sister and the detective and raised her chin, feeling their support warm her cold hands. She immediately shook her head at Erin's question. "No. I did not conspire with anyone to kill my husband. I hated him for everything he had put me and my family through. But I did not plot his death with Olivia Benson, or with anyone else. I'm not that kind of person." 

"Thank you, Emma. No further questions, Your Honor." Erin strode back to the defense's table, full of confidence. Despite the setback of Olivia's testimony, she still felt the verdict could go their way. 

Caroline rose, licking her lips in anticipation. "Miss Cabot, you almost sounded like you believed yourself up there." 

Erin sighed, shooting to her feet. "Objection! Counsel is already harassing the witness." 

Cooper sighed as well, sending a warning Caroline's way. "Sustained." 

Caroline stepped back, a sly smile on her face. "Let's walk through the scenario as you remember it, okay? You say Mark charged you, and you backtracked and grabbed the baseball bat." 

Emma nodded. "Yes, that's right." 

"And then you swung, and he grabbed the bat from you." 

Emma nodded again. "Correct." 

Caroline did a small side step in front of the jury box, demonstrating the struggle. "And then you pushed past him." 

"Yes." 

Caroline nodded, clearly disbelievingly. "Why didn't he reach out and grab you as you ran past?" 

Emma's brow furrowed. "He was holding the bat, I guess." 

"Well, since the person we need to ask isn't here, we'll just continue.  Then you grabbed this knife and stabbed him." Caroline stepped back to the defense table and picked up an evidence bag containing the bloody knife.

Emma licked her lips again, biting the top layer of skin. "He lunged at me, and I lunged forward at the same time. He had my back against the kitchen wall. My hand connected with his torso." 

Caroline held up her index finger. "You stabbed him in the kitchen?" 

Emma thought quickly. "I think so." 

Caroline shook her head. "There was no blood in the kitchen." 

Emma looked at Erin, her mouth working briefly before she could form a reply. "Maybe I missed the first time, I don't know." 

Caroline nodded. "Well, murdering people does take practice." 

"Objection!" Erin roared, leaping up. "Your Honor, the defense moves for a mistrial. Plaintiff's counsel is obviously too close to the situation and is letting her personal views influence her courtroom behavior." 

Caroline whipped around. "I am defending the rights of the deceased in this trial, regardless of whether or not I had a personal history with him. I am defending his right to justice as zealously as I would any other client." 

"Approach the bench, both of you." Cooper waited until the blonde and the brunette stood under her unwavering gaze. "Miss Whitney, give me one good reason I shouldn't grant Miss Jacobs' request." 

"Because it would look like the judicial system was once again looking out for its own," Caroline replied. "The three of us know she's lying up there. Benson lied. Had Miss Jacobs put Alexandra on the stand, she'd have lied, too. Is that what we want to go down in the books? That because this woman is the sister of an ADA and the golden girl of the NYPD, she got off? What kind of vigilante justice will that produce?" 

Cooper's mouth was set. "You're her sister. Miss Jacobs is right; you're too close. Your co-counsel should be questioning her." 

Caroline snorted. "My co-counsel is a second year law student, Your Honor. He has no business even being in this room, except that it's making for great stories in his Constitutional Law class." 

Cooper wagged her finger at Caroline, seething through closed teeth. "You will maintain your distance. You will treat the witness with respect, and you will stop these little pot-shots. The next one you pull, that knock-off Donna Karan will be warming the bench in lock-up, and Miss Jacobs will have her mistrial, with prejudice. Then you'll really be screwed. Are we clear, Miss Whitney?" 

Caroline nodded succinctly. "Yes, Your Honor." 

"We damn well better be. Step back." Cooper snapped back to a seated attention position and addressed the jury. "The jury will disregard Miss Whitney's innuendos to the witness. The objection is overruled. Continue, Miss Whitney." 

Caroline stepped back in front of the witness box, arms crossed, but at an acceptable distance from her younger sister. "So you stabbed **at** Mark in the kitchen, and then you pushed past him again and ran into the living room?" 

Emma nodded. "Yes. That's where I stabbed him first."

"The first drops of blood were by the far wall, near the hallway where you got the bat. The door was right next to the kitchen. Why didn't you run, Emma?" 

Emma shook her head. "By that point, I was panicked. I was just trying to get him to stop chasing me. He would have caught me if I'd run towards the door." 

"Did you even try?" Caroline asked, moving slightly forward. 

"I...I wasn't thinking," Emma repeated. "I was so scared." 

Caroline nodded. "And you stabbed him." 

Emma nodded again, voice quiet. "Yes." 

"Did he cry out?" Caroline asked. 

"We both did," Emma replied, clenching her jaw and telling herself not to fidget. 

"So, it hurt you as much as it hurt him?" Caroline asked, head tilted. 

"I...I don't know," Emma replied. 

"Mmhmm," Caroline replied, looking towards the jury. "When did he hit you?" 

"After I stabbed him the first time," Emma said. 

"He hit you with a baseball bat, and you still hung onto the knife? He had two stab wounds. You must have held onto that knife pretty tight." 

"I don't know, Carrie," Emma replied, hoping the use of her sister's first name would deter her for the moment. "When he hit me across the face, I knew if I didn't hang on to what I had, I'd have no shot." 

"What an appropriate segue." Caroline wasn't dissuaded in the slightest. "That's when Detective Benson showed up." 

Emma nodded. "I managed to get him a second time, but then he knocked the knife away. He hit me once more, and then Olivia shot him." 

"Detective Benson to the rescue," Caroline turned and placed the knife back on the table and picked up a long white sheet of paper. "Emma, after you left Mark and filed for divorce, what happened to the cell phone he had purchased for you?" 

"I returned it to the store and got a separate plan," Emma replied.

"Did Mark know this new cell phone number?" Caroline approached the witness stand again, watching the jury watch her. Half seemed disgusted that a woman could grill her sister like this, and the others' interest was piqued. The golden girl was tarnishing. Caroline turned back to her sister, an expectant look in her eyes. 

"I'm not sure," Emma replied. "I didn't give it to him." 

"This is a copy of your cell phone statement from August 15 to September 15. The date in question falls within this window. The records indicate that a call was placed from your cell phone to Mark's cell phone on the day he died. Interestingly, the call came fifty-eight minutes before Detective Benson's call for backup. Emma, did you call Mark that day?" 

Emma crossed and uncrossed her legs before answering. "Yes," she admitted in a whisper. 

Caroline pounced. 

"You called him? Why?" 

The tears streaked the light line of freckles that dotted her cheek. "I wanted to know if it was true. If he had actually been the one that kidnapped Allie. I hung up before he answered." 

"You talked to him for thirty-two seconds!" Caroline roared. 

Emma shook her head swiftly. "It took a few seconds to connect. It rang twice before I disconnected." 

"Emma, why are you lying?" Caroline's tone was pleading. "Nobody would blame you. I mean, he kidnapped you, raped you. He let the man who tortured you throughout your entire childhood rape you again. He kidnapped and raped your beloved sister. He was trash. He should have died!" 

Emma shook her head, seeing Caroline for all she was worth. Her sister was good; very, very good indeed. 

Before Emma could speak, Erin was on her feet. "Your Honor," she practically shouted. "Counsel is not only badgering the witness, she's testifying!" 

Emma shook her head, her eyes pinned on mirroring images before her. "I loved him for a long time," she replied, her tone deathly alto. "And I despised him. But I know pain. I know torment. I wear it everyday, see it everyday. And to have been the cause of that in a premeditated state would have destroyed everything. I don't have it in me. I just don't." Emma turned to Cooper. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to interrupt." 

Cooper sat back in her chair, watching Emma. "If I sustain Miss Jacobs' objection, everything you just said will be stricken." 

"I want people to know that I loved him, despite who he was," Emma returned. 

"Objection overruled," Cooper replied quietly. "Questions only, Miss Whitney." 

"You loved him, Emma?" The change in Caroline's tone scared Emma to the core. "You testified you aren't the type of person to conspire with anyone to commit murder. But are you the type of person to set a plan in motion by yourself?" 

Emma shook her head. "I'm not sure I understand the question." 

"You love Olivia Benson like a sister, don't you?" 

Emma nodded. "Yes, I do." 

"And you don't want her hurt, or in trouble, do you?" 

"No." Emma's tone was questioning, wondering where Caroline was going. 

"Maybe you did call her to see how Alex was. Maybe you didn't conspire with her. You love her too much to get her hands dirty. She just showed up in the middle of what you'd decided to do, didn't she?" 

"No!" Emma's scared herself with her vehement reply. "I didn't plan any of it, okay? None of it. I fought for my life, and I won." 

Caroline snorted. "How dumb do you think we are, Emma? Do you actually think we can't see right though you?" Caroline turned on her heel. "Withdrawn. I have no more questions for this witness." 

Cooper nodded. "You are excused, Miss Cabot. Miss Jacobs, do you have another witness?" 

"Your Honor, if I may re-cross, I have just a few more questions for this witness," Erin said, measuring her words. 

Cooper nodded. "Go ahead, Miss Jacobs, if that's all right with Miss Cabot." 

Emma sat back down. "It's fine." 

"Emma, you testified earlier that while you were living with Mark, he refused to let you pay the phone bills, because of his many long-distance calls to Connecticut and Atlanta. Who was he calling?" she asked, to clarify. 

"He was calling Miss Whitney in Atlanta and my stepfather in Connecticut," Emma replied. 

"Were you privy to the contents of any of these conversations?" 

"I walked in on him once," Emma remembered. "He was talking low, murmuring something. I heard a 'baby' in there. When he got off, I lit into him. I thought he was having an affair. But he said it was a misunderstanding, and I left it at that." 

Shaking her head, Erin narrowed her eyes. She and Emma hadn't discussed this line of questioning - in fact, Erin herself hadn't put two and two together until Caroline used a very significant phrase: 'whether or not I had a personal history with him.' "Emma, how long have you and I been friends?" 

"Over ten years, since your freshman year in college." 

Erin nodded, pursuing, "So I know you pretty well, right?" 

Emma chuckled. "Enough to write a damaging tell-all," she admitted with a smile. 

"And in all our years of friendship, I've never known you to let anything go that easily," Erin said, watching Emma's face for any sign she should drop the line of questioning. "What did you **really** do when you thought you caught Mark cheating on you?" 

Emma trapped her tongue between the inside of her cheek and her teeth. "I hit redial," she admitted with a nervous chuckle, relaxing when the jury murmured laughter with her. 

Erin grinned. "Star sixty-nine is a beautiful thing. Who answered when you rang back?"

"It was a law firm. Cooley, Davidson and Marner. Atlanta area code," Emma remembered, her jaw dropping open as she finally put two and two together. 

"And, at that time and up until three months ago, who was the only lawyer you knew in Atlanta?" Erin prodded, for the sake of the jury. 

"My sister. Caroline Whitney." Emma shook her head. "Damn, girl." She turned quickly to Cooper, a stricken look on her face. "Sorry." 

Caroline rose, shrugging her confusion to the court. "Your Honor, this is fascinating, but where is the relevance?" 

Cooper nodded. "Miss Jacobs?" 

"One more moment, Judge, and I'll show the relevance." Erin whipped out the big gun, the only piece of information discovered in the pre-trial discovery that she'd hidden from Emma. "Would it surprise you to learn that for two years, while Mark was a pre-law student, he was also employed as a law clerk?" 

Emma shook her head. "He told me as much. Said he loved working for the firm he was with, and got to know many of the lawyers intimately." 

"Would it surprise you, then, to learn that he was clerking for Cooley, Davidson and Marner?" 

Emma's jaw dropped as murmurs went through the courtroom. 

In her seat, Alex sucked in a breath. "Caroline was sleeping with him," she murmured with a shake of her head. 

"I think it would be fair to say that that piece of information would surprise me, yes," Emma replied after a minute, looking around Erin to Caroline, who was tapping her foot in annoyance, but there was a flicker of something across her face that Emma recognized instantly as fear. 

"One more surprise, Emma." Erin surprised herself with the speed at which she made the next connection in her spinning brain. "This is a copy of Mark's W-2 form, from 1998. Will you read the box marked 'Address'?" 

"1976 Cobb County Road in Marietta, Georgia," Emma read. 

"Your Honor, Respondent's Evidence Eight and Nine," Erin said, passing Judge Cooper a two slips of paper. "Mark Miller's W-2, that Emma just read, and Caroline Cabot-Whitney's W-2 from the same year, from the same firm." 

"So entered," Cooper noted. 

"Emma," Erin handed her Respondent's Nine, "this is Caroline's W-2. Would you read the box marked 'Address' again, please?" Erin knew that the jury could see where she was going, but the laws of evidence required everything to be properly documented. If she wanted to scare the hell out of Caroline, and possibly win, Erin had to play by the same rules that Caroline had manipulated to bring them there in the first place. 

"1976 Cobb County Road. Marietta, Georgia," Emma replied, caught between laughing and disgust. 

"Thank you. No further questions, Judge." Erin strode back to her seat, casting a smirking glare in Caroline's direction. 

Cooper looked between petitioner and respondent, watching the look of confusion and hesitance work its way across Caroline Whitney's face, and the look of relief and pride coloring Erin Jacobs' cheeks. "Miss Whitney?" 

Caroline looked up, startled. "No re-cross, Your Honor." 

Cooper raised her eyebrows; she didn't think the information presented held any relevance, but unless Caroline objected, she couldn't say anything. "Thank you, Miss Cabot. You're dismissed." As Emma returned to the table, Cooper looked back at Erin. "Any further witnesses, Miss Jacobs?" 

"The defense rests, ma'am." 

"Very well. Closing arguments will be tomorrow, promptly nine AM. We're adjourned."   
  


* * *  
  


The knock on the door surprised her. She wasn't expecting any visitors. As she made her way to the door, the carpet massaged her bare feet, tinted red from a day of confinement in pumps. She twirled her pen around her slender fingers, reaching for the handle. She turned it easily, a flicker of surprise working across her face as her brain processed the identity of her late night visitor. 

Younger eyes caught older before Emma spoke. "Let's make a deal."

THE END


	14. Resignation

Striding into SVU, the look on Erin Jacobs' face could only be described as homicidal. She caught sight of Alex, resting against Olivia's desk on what had become her 'usual' corner. "Good, you're both here," she sniped, without preamble. "That'll save me from repeating myself. Do you **know** what your sister did? Go ahead, you'll never guess." 

Alex looked at Olivia briefly before returning confused blue eyes to Erin's fiery eyes. The sarcastic remark died on her lips and her brow furrowed. "What happened?" 

"She. Went. To. Caroline's," Erin enunciated through clenched teeth. "Are all of you on fucking crazy pills?" the lawyer hissed. 

Alex held up her palm in a "stop" motion. "What did you just say?" 

"Emma went to see Caroline." 

"And did what exactly?" Alex's voice dropped and she slid off Olivia's desk, crossing her arms and facing her friend. 

Sighing, Erin planted herself on Elliot desk and grumbled, "Your sister made a deal without consulting her attorney. She offered to settle out of court with Mark's estate." 

"What?" Alex's head lolled back after the cry was expelled, a deep sigh lifting her chest. "Let me guess; Caroline jumped all over it. Damn it, Emma!" Alex moved her hands to her hips, shaking her head as her eyes focused on a shadowed spot on the far wall. Looking down at Olivia, she asked helplessly, "Did she tell you anything about it?" 

Olivia fiddled with a pen in front of her, clearing her throat a few times. "She...might've mentioned...something...about it." 

Alex's arms dropped heavily to her side. She strained her neck, eyebrows flirting with her hairline. "You knew about this?" 

"She asked me what I thought, okay?" the brunette detective admitted, dropping the pen with a deep sigh. "And specifically asked me not to tell you." 

"Well, that's just great," Alex retorted, rubbing her forehead. She looked helplessly at Erin. "What do we do now? Cry coercion? Extreme...tendency to be a myopic idiot?" 

Chuckling despite herself, Erin shook her head. "Emma made her bed, now she's gotta lie in it, unfortunately. And as her counsel, I have to do what she asks of me, and she's asked me to hammer out a deal, so that's what I'm going to do." 

Alex licked her lips and removed her glasses, rubbing the bridge of her nose. "Is she admitting anything, or is it just monetary?" 

"That's still on the table. Of course, Caroline wants a full admission, and I want a no-fault clause," Erin explained, albeit unnecessarily. 

"It never ceases to amaze me how a woman as intelligent as she is can still be that big of an idiot. This is going to destroy her," Alex fumed. There were few things that could get her worked up on the job, but the thoughtless decisions of her sister topped the list. She looked back at Olivia, whose gaze remained steadfast on the phone in front of her, and tried to understand. "Did she say why?" 

"No." Olivia tried to radiate calm with her voice. "Maybe this really is the best thing," she offered quietly. "At least it'll all be over in a few days." 

"It was going to be over in a few days anyway," Alex replied, anger and frustration acting as staccato to her voice. "She had that jury eating out of the palm of her hand. They were going to find for her, and the three of us could have walked out of there, fine and fancy free. But no. She has to go behind our backs and make a deal that's going to screw it all up again." Alex leaned down, her index finger punching the pile of manila folders lining Olivia's desk. "She admits culpability, she proves you lied on the stand to protect her. She could lose her business, her house, and could get you censured." Alex shook her head. "Tell me how that's the best thing." 

"Nothing's going to happen to me." Olivia dismissed the idea, leaning back and crossing her legs at the ankles. "Her business is protected by the limited liability corporation she set up with Erin's help." The detective nodded in the attorney's direction. "It's protected from any lawsuit not directly alleging business-related negligence or misconduct. So why don't you stop being her big sister for just a second," Olivia suggested gently, "and try being proud of Emma for making a decision on her own. You know, she was only trying to protect you." 

"Why? Because suddenly I'm some overwrought victim whose hormones are all out of whack because of the—" Alex bit the inside of her cheek before she continued. "Fine. I never could rein her in anyway." She looked across the desk at Erin. "Just promise me Caroline won't be able to go to anyone with this. Not local, not national, not international." 

Nodding, Erin replied, "You know I won't let her hurt you - any of you," she clarified, glancing between Alex and Olivia. 

"And for the record," Olivia told Alex, "I didn't say you were an overwrought victim. I think you're being an overprotective sister. But this isn't your decision to make; it's Emma's. And I'd say she's made it." 

"Well, then. Who am I to argue?" Alex gathered up her briefcase. "I have paperwork. I'll...see you later, I guess." She walked past Olivia's chair and into the hallway with determined steps. She jabbed at the elevator button angrily, trying to calm herself down. Of course Emma could make her own decisions. But when she did so without thinking the consequences through, without thinking about who else she could hurt...it was enough to put Alex in quite a bitch state. She sighed as her office door shut behind her. She threw her coat and briefcase on the chair in front of her desk and stopped to look at the picture of Emma on her filing cabinet, a fresh wave of anger flowing through her. A thought, unbidden, but undeniable, struck her. Was she having such a problem with it, truly because of the consequences, or was it because Emma had once again gone to Olivia instead of Alex? She sat down in her chair, immediately pushing the jealous train of thought out of her head. But it still niggled at the back of her brain. Alex and Olivia had hashed out many of the main problems plaguing them on the previous Sunday, when she had returned from Boston. The main issue, though, was still to be resolved; why was it that both of them sought out other people in dealing with their relationship? Neither woman had an answer, and it bothered Alex more than she wanted it to. She sighed again, subjecting her poor pen to a Vulcan death grip as she tried to sort out her feelings. 

* * *

The knock was quiet at first, more insistent when it went unanswered. 

Alex closed her eyes; she'd know those knuckles anywhere. She took a deep breath and took off her glasses, laying them on the law book she'd been pretending to read for the past twenty minutes. "Yeah?" she called, leaning back in her chair. 

Olivia slid in with the practiced ease of one trying to be discreet about a lunchtime rendezvous or a post-work meeting. Shutting the door quietly behind her, the detective stood expectantly, hands stuffed into the pockets of her leather jacket. 

Alex's eyes met Olivia's, and she tilted her head slightly, silently asking what the detective wanted her to say. After a moment, she shook her head halfway, pulling her lip under her teeth, a habit she picked up from her younger sister. "I just wish she had consulted me first." 

"I could've been nicer about my phrasing," Olivia said, and it was the closest either of them would come to an outright apology. 

Alex leaned forward, massaging the back of her neck with her palm. Theirs was a situation fraught with potential, but also hindrances, and right now, she just couldn't make herself want to deal with any of it. Instead, she sat back in her chair, allowing herself the small comfort of knowing Olivia would understand. "How's the Harvey case? Mom got temporary emergency custody today, so we'll issue a warrant for custodial interference for Dad by the end of the day." 

"Doesn't seem like we're any closer to a collar," Olivia bitched, sinking into a chair. "It's hell trying to get the cops in Chicago to give enough of a shit to try and track this guy down for us. Elliot and I may have to fly out there and do some legwork ourselves." The brunette sounded ready to slit some throats. "D'you know the fuckin' social workers won't even call the NCMEC intern back? Poor kid called me twice this week to apologize for the lack of leads." 

Alex shook her head. "It's a mess," she summarized. "Too many jurisdictions, not enough room to mark the territory." She leaned back again, grinning in spite of herself. "But that's why they've got us, right?" 

"Yep. We're the proverbial pee-cleaners." 

Alex shuddered. "That's really an image I didn't want to think about, now that it's worked its way through my head." She paused, watching Olivia's eyes wandering all over the office, rather than her normal smoldering stare. "How late are you on?" Alex asked quietly. 

"I get off around six. Did you...you know, wanna do something tonight?" Olivia pinned Alex with a patented Detective-stare. 

Alex's face broke into a smile. "Are you coming on to me, Detective Benson?" 

_No, but give me half an hour and I'll have you coming on me._ Olivia shrugged, covering her desire deliberately. "Do you want me to, ADA Cabot?" 

Alex tilted her head quickly, as if she were weighing her options. "That depends, Detective," Alex replied, leaning further back in her chair and crossing her legs. 

"On what?" Olivia licked her lips without realizing it. 

A broader, sly smile tickled Alex's cheek. She leaned forward, her voice low and husky, as if she were about to reveal a most confidential secret. Her mouth opened in preparation for her answer, and as she was about to annunciate the words, she straightened, she smile gone. Her eyes still danced, however, and she cradled her chin in her hand. "Tell you what. You meet me for drinks, and I'll whisper it in your ear." 

"Do it in that voice," Olivia agreed easily, "and I'll be there." 

Alex let out a throaty chuckle. "You got it. Renew. Eight o'clock. I'll be the one in the leather pants." Alex picked up her glasses and put them back on, looking back to her code books. 

With that promise ringing in her ears, Olivia stood and disappeared, heading back to SVU. Once in the borrowed sedan, she pulled out her cell phone. "Emma, I need to borrow an outfit." 

Emma's brow crinkled as she pulled on her oversized Boston College sweatshirt. "Wait, let me check the battery in my hearing aid. What did you just ask me?" 

"I have a date tonight," Olivia grinned, "and I need an outfit." 

Emma made a contented noise in the back of her throat. "That's great, Liv," she said with a smile. "I'll start doing some hunting. What time are you meeting her?" 

"Eight." 

"And where are we going?" Emma hoisted herself off the couch and moved into her closet, thumbing through the selection. 

"Renew. I believe you've heard of it," Olivia teased. 

Emma chuckled. "Hm, yeah, I think I may have at one point or another. I'm surprised she'd want to go back there," she commented, tossing a few shirts out of the closet and onto her bed. "Was she pissed when Erin told her?" 

"Well...if I were you, I'd think about the Witness Protection Program." 

Emma chuckled briefly again. "She hasn't killed me yet. One more thing won't push her over the edge now." 

Olivia pulled out into traffic, holding the phone against her cheek with her shoulder. "You didn't see her face. She was madder than the time you brought that brochure home for the baby llama adoption program." 

"Oh, come on. That was funnier than all hell." Emma threw a few more pairs of pants on the bed, and threw in a short skirt for the hell of it. She went back into her dark living room, taking another sip of the Jack Daniels she'd poured herself before Olivia had called. "At some point, she has to figure out that I'm capable of putting two and two together, and actually getting four." 

Shrugging to herself, Olivia turned into a parking spot and shut the car off. "I'm not having this discussion with you right now. I have a steak an' cheese sandwich and a stack of phone calls waiting for me. Just find me an outfit, okay? I'll come by your place around seven." 

"All right. See you then." Emma disconnected, chucking the phone on her couch. She walked, drink in hand, to her window and looked out over the city. She hadn't felt this down in a long time. She was sure the alcohol wasn't helping, but then, neither were the pills. She sighed, closing her eyes and resting her forehead against the sliding glass door. 

* * *

Olivia eyed the outfit disparagingly. "You really think I can pull that off?" she asked Emma. "That's really more of an outfit for you, Emma Kate." 

Emma gave her a pointed Cabot look. "Do you trust me?" Before Olivia could answer, Emma pushed the hangers further into the brunette's hand. "Don't answer that. You'll wear it if you love me." 

"Aw, shit, don't pull a guilt trip on me, Emmy," Olivia said, tossing the clothes back on the bed. Tugging her blazer off, Olivia reached for the hem of her shirt. "You know I can't take it when you make those big eyes at me." Her voice was muffled as she pulled the shirt overhead. 

Emma grinned. "That's what I planned on, Detective Benson," she purred, handing Olivia the black halter top. "I have a cardigan you can wear if you want," she reassured as Olivia's eyes widened again. 

"Holy Christ." Olivia slid the top on, marveling at how breezy it was. "Am I covered?" she asked worriedly. "I feel overexposed." 

"But you look amazing," Emma pointed out, handing over her prized red leather skirt. "Just try. You can wear the black pants if you want, but let's just say that if you wear that skirt, you'll be throwing women off you the entire night. Alex might not stand a chance." 

"I don't want to be prying women off me, Em. I just wanted to look good for Alex," Olivia complained, holding the skirt as if it might leap at her at any moment. 

"Trust me," Emma implored. "She won't know what hit her." Emma tapped her foot impatiently as Olivia continued to study the intricacies of the stitching. "Oh, for Christ's sake." Emma stepped around Olivia, unbuttoning the detective's pants and drawing the zipper down. She guided the fabric off Olivia's hips and raised her eyebrows impatiently. "Will you just put it on so I can get back to making myself pretty, please?" 

Olivia couldn't help laughing as she craned to see behind her. "Why, Miss Cabot, I believe that's your hand on my ass. And what're you in such a hurry for? It's **my** date." 

Emma chuckled, squeezing Olivia's backside. "I'll have you know I have a little date of my own, thank you very much." 

"Oh, **really**? Shelby?" Olivia asked, finally consenting and stepping out of her pants. 

A slight blush colored Emma's cheeks. "Possibly," she replied coyly, toying with the hem of her sweatshirt. 

"Which means 'Olivia, you're the smartest person I know and you've cracked my verbal code. I'm so turned on right now, I could just slam you up against a wall'." The detective laughed to herself as she slid the tiny leather skirt up and over her hips. 

"Oh, yeah, baby. Come quick and do me now." Emma rolled her eyes good-naturedly and peeled off her sweatshirt. She shuddered as the cool air of the apartment hit her skin, and she reached across the bed to grab her cranberry-colored tank top and lace overlay. "You guys just doing Renew, or are you grabbing a bite beforehand?" 

"We were thinking about having something first. You and Shelby wanna join us?" 

Emma pondered it for a moment, then shrugged. "I'll call her and find out. You don't think Allie will mind?" 

"I doubt it. She's looking for an opportunity to get you and a steak knife within stabbing distance." Olivia turned and faced Emma self-consciously. "How do I look?" 

Emma swallowed her reply regarding her sister and simply raised her eyebrows. "Damn, child." 

Olivia's hands went to her hips. "I'm older than you, **child**." 

"Ten bucks says you get carded tonight," Emma replied with a shake of her head. "You really look phenomenal, Olivia. We're definitely doing dinner; Alex'll be so wrapped up in you, she'll forget I'm there." 

"Sounds like a plan. But, Em?" 

"Hm?" Emma whipped off her shorts and pulled on stretchy black pants, putting in her small hoop earrings and letting her hair out of its ponytail. 

"How'm I sposta move in this thing?" Olivia giggled, trying to bend over. "I'm shit outta luck if I drop anything tonight." 

Emma laughed. "Just don't drop anything. And if you do, bend at your knees, not your waist." 

Olivia nodded, mentally recording the order. "Right, bend at the knees. Are you sure I don't look too...femme in this?" 

Emma turned, cupping her wavy hair around her ear. She placed her hands on Olivia's hips, imploring the older woman with her eyes. "You are strong, independent, and could kick anyone's ass, leather skirt or no leather skirt. You own everything you see and touch in this baby. You only look femme if you act demure. Other than that, you're fantastic. 'Kay?" 

"Okay." Olivia was slightly comforted by the brash reassurances of the young blonde. _Since when is twenty-nine 'young'?_ she chided herself. "Is there jewelry to go with this, or would that be overdoing it?" 

Emma stepped back and tapped her finger to her chin thoughtfully. "Well, we're losing the watch, for one," she said, pointing to the decidedly detective-esque piece. She turned and fiddled in her jewelry collection, pulling out a silver arm bracelet. "Put it on your bicep," she instructed, "and then you're complete." 

Olivia slid the Cleopatra-style bracelet up her arm and discarded her watch on the pile of clothes now gracing Emma's rumpled bed. 

Emma offered an exuberant round of applause. "Mahvelous, dahling," she drawled. "Simply mahvelous." She moved back into the living room, finding the phone. "Am I calling Shelby?" 

"I thought we already decided you were! Oh, shit," Olivia added, a thoughtful look on her face. 

"What?" Emma asked, searching her kitchen table for the scrap of paper which held her date's phone number. 

"I have to pee, and I'm not sure I can get back in this thing if I get out now." Olivia burst out laughing, heading for the bathroom. "The things we do for sex - I mean, love." 

Emma howled with laughter as she dialed the phone. "You could just go without it. I know Alexandra would love that." 

Olivia offered a parting shot as she closed the bathroom door. "Yeah, but the managers of Renew might object." 

"I own a third of that club, honey. No one's gonna mess with you," Emma bellowed back, finishing dialing Shelby's number. "Hey," she said quietly, "It's Emma." 

"Hi." Shelby's soft soprano was quietly wary. "Are you calling to cancel again?" 

"No," Emma replied emphatically, a bit embarrassed. "Actually, I was wondering if you wanted to change the dinner venue. It's weird...but my sister and her girlfriend are going out, and I thought maybe it'd be fun if we joined them." 

"Uhm...okay. They won't mind? I know my sister'd kill me if I hung around on one of her dates." 

"Nah, they're cool like that. I mean, if it's uncomfortable for you, we can just go where we had planned..." Emma trailed off, forehead crinkling. "Is it always this awkward at the beginning?" 

Shelby giggled softly. "Oh, absolutely. Are we still on for nine then?" 

"Well, if you're ready now, I was thinking maybe eightish," Emma amended, pulling her boots on. 

"I can be ready in a few minutes. Want me to pick you up? My 'Vette's itchin' for a run," Shelby offered. 

"Ooh," Emma purred. "I'm at...oh, wait, Erin probably gave you my address, right?" 

Shelby reached for pen and paper. "No, she said you were private about that kind of thing, and you'd tell me when you were ready." 

"72nd and Broadway, apartment 707," Emma reported. "When should I meet you downstairs?" 

"In about fifteen minutes," Shelby replied. "See you then." 

"'Kay. Bye." Emma disconnected, turning to see Olivia, leaning against the wall with an amused expression on her face. "What?" she asked innocently, pulling out her 3/4 length leather coat from the closet. 

"You're dressed to kill, and you're using your best 'How hot am I?' voice. It's just cute, seeing you back in flirt-mode, that's all." Olivia reached for her coat and the small black purse Emma had set out for her. 

Emma chuckled, a sly grin replacing the nervous look on her face. "Well, how hot **am** I?" 

Chuckling, Olivia followed Emma to the door. "NYFD, ma'am. I'm gonna have to take you in." 

Emma's laughter echoed in the hallway. "It's just been so long since I've done this," she confided as they waited for the elevator. "I cancelled on her once, you know." 

"Twice, to hear Erin tell it." 

Emma rolled her eyes as they entered the elevator. "Well, the second time was right around the whole Allie going to Boston mess started. But I chickened out, cold as shit, the first time. I just don't know if I'm cut out for it anymore." 

Olivia raised an eyebrow, appraising Emma's very obvious outfit. "Guess you'll find out tonight." 

"Guess so." Emma smiled, then looked down the block as a loud, sporty engine approached. The black Corvette screeched to a stop and Emma raised an eyebrow. "That was an entrance," she murmured. 

Olivia nodded silently, memorizing the license plate number. "Well, enjoy the ride. When I called Alex to change plans before, I told her I'd meet her at her place and we'd go to the restaurant together. So you guys go, get a table and relax. We'll catch up." 

A long, lean brunette slid out of the car and sized up the pair of beautiful women standing on the sidewalk. "You must be Emma," she said to the blonde. Her eyes traveled unabashedly the length of Emma's lithe body. 

"See you in a bit," Emma replied quietly, smiling at the raven-haired woman in front of her. "Shelby? So nice to meet you," she extended her hand, unable to keep the smile off her face. 

"You, too." As Olivia walked off, unable to hide the 'Fuck-with-her-and-I'll-kill-you' expression on her face, Shelby shook Emma's hand, her strong fingers grasping the blonde's tightly. "Erin said you were cute, but wow, did she ever undersell ya." 

Emma chuckled deeply, trying to understand the shiver that flowed through her body as Shelby grasped her hand. "It's all an act. I actually strike a scary resemblance to Alan Thicke on occasion." 

"Really? I loved him on 'Growing Pains'." Shelby grinned at Emma's sense of humor. "She said you were funny, too." With a wicked grin, the brunette added, "It remains to be seen if the rest of her bragging was deserved, but judging from what little I've seen, I think I owe Erin a big hot fudge sundae for this one." Turning, she pulled the passenger side door open for Emma. 

Emma laughed again, scrunching the bottom of her hair. She slid across the leather easily, watching the confidence flow off her date in tsunami-sized waves. It was almost intimidating. As Shelby revved the engine and they sped further downtown, Emma leaned back against the seat and ordered herself to have a good time. 

They arrived at Renew faster than Emma had thought humanly possible; the fact that Shelby owned a car in New York City should have told her the woman knew how to push limits. She smiled at the valet as she climbed out, and reached for Shelby's hand. "There's a small restaurant in the back, before they open the dance floor. That okay?" 

"Sounds perfect." Shelby bypassed Emma's outstretched hand, letting her palm rest instead on the bared small of the blonde's back as they walked around the building. 

"Hey, Mikey," Emma greeted the maitre'd. "Think you can find me a table for four?" She looked over her shoulder at the crowded waiting room. Mike nodded with a grin, and motioned to a table. Emma ushered Shelby past, and grinned as Mike seated them in the back corner in which she had done many of her sketches. "Thank you, Mikey," she purred. 

Her friend kissed the top of her head and handed Shelby the mixed drinks list. "You'll need something strong to keep up with this one," he said, motioning to the blonde. 

"I found that out already," Shelby bantered, setting the list down and going behind Emma's chair to pull it out. 

Emma sat down, smiling her thanks. Mike handed them the menus, and nodded after Emma told him to look out for Alex. He left the two women in the half-darkness. Emma turned and smiled at Shelby. "So, Erin tells me you're an artist." 

"Well, I dabble in the visual arts," Shelby clarified, "but I'm a graphic artist for money. You know, whoring myself to pay the rent." 

"Hey, we do what we have to," Emma replied, pausing to order a dry martini, and allow Shelby to get her scotch on the rocks. "Do you prefer the computer to canvas?" 

Shaking her head vehemently, Shelby answered, "Absolutely not. There's nothing like the feel of canvas beneath your brush, or clay squishing between your fingers. It's almost seductive - sensual, in a way." 

"I can only handle bare-bones sketching," Emma confided. "I barely made it through design school." 

"Then your real talent must lie in the vision," Shelby countered, glancing around the impeccably appointed restaurant, "because this place is incredible. I can't wait to see the club." 

"It gets pretty crazy," Emma said, knowing where the neon lights hid beneath sparkling chandeliers. "It's a comforting cover for when people want to let go and be whatever they want to be." 

Shelby turned away from the shining marble and glass of the bar at the far end of the room and pinned Emma with green eyes the color of uncut emeralds. "And what do you want to be, Emma?" 

Emma was caught off-guard and laughed breathlessly for a moment. "I want to be happy," she said, raising her glass. 

"To happiness." Shelby clinked her glass against Emma's, trying to read the woman - but the blonde was not too easy to decipher. 

Emma looked around at the crowded restaurant and grinned as she saw Olivia and Alex approaching them, fingers brushing against each other. Emma rose, hugging her sister and the detective. "So, what'd she think?" Emma whispered hurriedly as she embraced Olivia. 

"We're late, aren't we?" Olivia teased, hugging Emma back. 

"Yeah!" Emma giggled. "Shelby Mayer, may I introduce my sister, Alexandra Cabot, and my good friend Olivia Benson. Guys, this is Shelby." 

Alex shook Shelby's hand with a gracious smile, even as her insides churned with the same warning Olivia had silently issued the woman earlier in the evening. She took off her coat, draping it on the knob hanging next to their table. "I'm going to grab a drink. You want a..." she said to Olivia. 

Knowing that Alex knew her tastes, Olivia agreed without voicing her request. "Yeah, thanks." She turned back to the other women. "So Shelby, what do you do?" 

"Like I was just telling Emma, I'm a graphic artist," Shelby answered easily, sipping her drink. She could tell both of the older women were wary of her, and she didn't blame them. From the sketchy outline Erin had given her of the Cabots' background, anyone new in Emma's life would face a Spanish Inquisition-level of curiosity from her family. 

Olivia raised an eyebrow. "Good money in that?" she asked, half of her waiting with bated breath for the expected ring of her cell phone. 

"Yeah, not bad. I make enough to pay my rent, but my real love is sculpting." 

The cell phone finally rang and Olivia snatched it out of her purse. "'Scuse me. Benson," she answered. 

"Liv, it's me," Elliot replied. "I got the information you wanted." 

"Go ahead." 

"The license plate number you fed me is registered to a Shelby Jane Mayer, formerly of Kansas City, currently of Brooklyn Heights. The quick search didn't turn up anything, but if you bring me prints, I can run her through VICAP and AIFIS." 

"Can do," Olivia replied simply. 

Olivia turned to Emma's date with an eagle eye. "So, Shelby, where're you from?" 

"I was born in Oklahoma, but I grew up in Kansas City." 

_Good answer. You know I can check you out, don't you, little girl?_ Olivia didn't know why she was so wary of Shelby; perhaps just because everyone else had betrayed them so badly - Peter, Mark, Caroline. 

Alex returned, carefully setting Olivia's drink in front of her, and taking a sip of her Cabernet as she slid next to the detective. She narrowed her eyes at Emma's expression, who was pinning Olivia with a dagger-laden stare. _Ah, Elliot must've called,_ she thought. "So, Shelby—" she started, until Emma's foot connected swiftly with her calf. Alex coughed, smiling to cover the wince of pain. "How did you meet Erin?" 

Reaching under the table for Emma's hand, Shelby smiled at Alex. "A couple of years ago, I was sued for breach of contract. A friend of mine recommended Erin to me, she represented me at a couple of evidentiary hearings, and the rest, as they say, is history." 

Emma curled her fingers around Shelby's, smiling gently. Alex leaned back in her chair, trying not to laugh at the territorial squaring of her girlfriend's shoulders. She teased Olivia's foot with her own, catching the brunette's eyes, telling her to put away the detective for one night. "Em, when did you say they turned into a club?" 

Emma checked her cell phone clock. "About an hour from now. Enough time for us to get some food, if we're all ready to order." 

Alex fingered the menu, flipping idly though before deciding on her standard. "Try the seafood ravioli," she recommended to Shelby, "if you're a sucker for that kind of thing. Really good." 

Relieved that she had managed to pass at least the preliminary test, Shelby replied, "I'm up for anything that combines pasta and seafood." 

Olivia wanted nothing more than to grill Shelby further, but under the withering twin stares of Alex and Emma, the detective gave up and grumbled to herself. 

The waitress came and smiled at the group. "Hi, Emmy," she said with a grin that seemed almost shy. "Nice to see you back here." 

"Hey, Amy!" Emma grinned. "How are you? I haven't seen you in ages." 

"I know," Amy chided. "You don't slum it much anymore. So how've you been?" Her eyes flicked over Shelby. 

"Oh, don't you start," Emma groaned. "I get enough of that from Sydney and Will. You remember my sister, Alex. This is Olivia and Shelby," Emma introduced the group. 

"Hi, ladies." Amy gave them each a polite smile. "I'll allow you all at my station, even though you're obviously the ones keeping our Emma away from us," she joked, laying a hand on Emma's shoulder. "What can I get ya'll?" 

The four quickly gave their orders before the kitchen closed, and they sat in silence for a minute before Emma nudged Shelby. "They've seen the inner workings of this place, but you haven't. You interested?" 

Shelby nodded with a smile. "I'd love the nickel tour." 

Emma slid out of the booth, hooking her finger with Shelby's. "We'll be back. Don't eat my dinner," she warned her sister. 

"I'll do my best," Alex joked, and watched them leave. She turned to Olivia, and couldn't contain her laughter any longer as she saw 'the detective glare' following her sister and her date. "You might be more subtle if you had your gun to her head and a spotlight on her face." 

"Then maybe I'd feel better about someday leaving her alone with Emma." Olivia had a sudden flash of herself as a parent, grilling potential baby-sitters. 

Alex leaned forward, placing a hand on Olivia's bare knee. "What did you tell me earlier? She's capable of making her own decisions." 

"About the case," Olivia clarified, in a tone that said Alex should've known the difference. "But she has a lousy track record with trusting people, you must admit." 

Alex sighed. "I know. But maybe she needs a night out to help her judg...oh, what the hell am I saying? We should have looked her up on Lexis-Nexis before we left." 

"Elliot did." 

"I love that man." Alex chuckled, a sound that bordered on a giggle. She scooted her chair closer to Olivia's.  "Do we really want to worry about her all night? Or can we draw out a little pleasure of our own?" 

"Can't we do both?" Olivia leaned in to kiss Alex, one eye on the door. 

Alex chuckled lightly again, cupping Olivia's cheek and kissing her, the blonde's probing tongue teasing the entrance to the detective's mouth. 

Responding to the kiss in full, Olivia moaned softly against Alex's tongue. 

Alex wrapped her foot around Olivia's calf, pulling them together so that her knee rested between the detective's legs. She moved her mouth upwards, curling her tongue around the front of Olivia's mouth, her hand resting on Olivia's chin. 

Pulling away with a wry grin, Olivia raised an eyebrow. "Someone's in a mood," she murmured appreciatively. 

Alex shrugged. "You in leather...better than oysters," she murmured back, grinning. 

"You like it?" Olivia scooted back a little and crossed her legs, enjoying the feeling of the tiny skirt sliding up her thighs. She'd worked hard for her tight body, and it was nice to know all her effort was appreciated. 

"I didn't give you enough of an indication earlier?" Alex asked, taking another sip of her wine. "No? How about the two guys checking you out over at the bar? Or the redhead two tables away?" 

"Who?" Olivia spun around, blushing a deep burgundy to match Alex's Cabernet as she spotted the aforementioned redhead, who winked at her. 

Alex raised an eyebrow as she saw the red color spread across Olivia's complexion. She leaned around Olivia and stared at the redhead, the challenge obvious in her stance. 

Picking up the challenge, the redhead arrived just as their dinners did. "Hi," she said, extending five slender fingers in Olivia's direction. "I'm Michelle. I haven't seen you around here before. You new in town?" Her other hand wrapped around a martini, Michelle's mouth quirked in a flirty grin. 

Alex's mouth dropped open at her chutzpah. She leaned back in her chair, elbow perched on the table, allowing Olivia a free appraisal of the woman. 

Olivia's appreciative eyes checked Michelle out with a smile. "Olivia," she said, shaking the woman's hand. "Nice to meet you, but no, I'm not new. My friend actually designed this place." 

"Really?" Michelle purred. "Fascinating. So, Liv, if you've been here a while, where've you been hiding? Certainly, it hasn't been here, or we would've met. I make it my business to know all the interesting women in this neighborhood." Michelle's throaty tone suggested that the true meaning of 'interesting' in her lexicon was 'long-legged, brunette and stacked'. 

Alex clucked her tongue. "Tread lightly, Madame Michelle. That's a cop you're talking to." _And her not-so-amused __ADA__ girlfriend to boot._

Michelle's expression changed from flirty to downright predatory. "Really?" Her purring was audible now. "You're a police officer? How incredibly brave." One taut hip eased its way closer to Olivia's shoulder. "I think it's so chivalrous, serving your fellow man that way." 

Olivia coughed to cover a chuckle. "Thanks, but it's not as romantic as it seems." 

"Oh, no, I'm sure it's very dangerous." Michelle drew the word 'very' over her tongue, rolling the 'r' as if she were in Spanish class. 

"Mmm," Alex nodded enthusiastically. "Under normal circumstances, if you were that close to her in that outfit, you'd either have a bullet in your chest, or you'd be on your way to booking."

Olivia turned toward Alex, a shocked expression on her face. "Alexandra!" she gasped, unable to stifle the matching breathy chuckle that escaped. 

Michelle's mouth fell open. "Did I miss something?" she asked, a catty tone slithering over the purr. 

Alex grinned at Olivia, but turned back to Michelle. This was the funniest thing Alex had seen in a long time, and she wasn't ready to let her fun go away yet. "What?" she asked innocently. "People need to know who you are up front. I'm just telling her like it is." She looked at Michelle, an earnest look on her face. "You appreciate that, don't you, Marsha?" 

"Michelle," the woman replied coldly. She turned her thousand-watt smile on Olivia again, ignoring Alex for the moment. "I'm not all that concerned with what people think of me." 

_Obviously,_ Olivia thought, _or you'd never have left the house wearing that skirt. I can almost see 'your business' as my mom called it._

"Well, I salute you for that," Alex said, raising her glass. "It's not often you find a prostitute who has a good sense of herself. Now, I suggest you go and leave us to our dinners, unless you want a very pissed off ADA to have the owners escort you out into the neighborhood you love so highly. Say goodnight, Marsha." 

Michelle opened her mouth to defend herself, and Olivia could tell by the expression on her face that certain unhealthy phrases were about to spew forth. She shook her head quickly. "Michelle, listen, it's been fun, but trust me on this. You don't want to tick my girlfriend off any more than you have. It's not your fault," Olivia explained with an almost-sincere smile. "She's just real jealous, and this skirt is new, and frankly, Alex doesn't want anyone else breaking it in for me. So thanks, but no thanks, and enjoy your evening." 

Michelle stalked off to lick her wounds in private. 

Emma and Shelby returned, and Emma's gaze pinned immediately on her sister. "Are you single-handedly making me lose money?" 

Alex shook her head primly. "She needed directions out on her ass, that's all." 

Emma burst out laughing, high-fiving her sister. "She said ass. This is huge," she informed Shelby, sliding into the booth and starting on her dinner. 

Chuckling, Shelby shook her head. They were just as Erin had described - or more accurately, just as Erin had warned her they'd be. She settled down to her dinner, feeling Olivia's eyes boring into her from across the table. 

Olivia took a break from staring at Shelby to stare at Alex for a long moment. "That was something else, Alexandra," she murmured. "You're a character." 

"What?" Alex asked, her eyes teasing and aroused - Olivia knew she was the only person who made the ADA's full name sound sexy. "Did you want me to sit back and let her drool and fumble all over you? She's still here, if you want a tramp. If you want something a little better, well, I'm still your woman." Alex winked, taking a bite of her Spanish rice. 

"Sweetie, you know I'd never actually go out with a woman of that...caliber," Olivia said, rolling her eyes as she nibbled at her chicken. "I was just enjoying the attention, and you scared the slut away before I was done playing with her." 

"Perish the thought," Alex replied, covering her heart. "Next time, I'll let you get your money's worth. Deal?" 

"Thank you. I mean, you get to have your fun every day with guys like Trevor. Munch has never **once** looked at me that way." 

Shelby watched the interchange curiously, recognizing the tone if not the content. She glanced at Emma, who was watching her sister and the detective banter with a grin. 

"We call them Lucy and Ethel behind their backs," Emma murmured as Alex commented that she'd be slightly concerned if Munch started looking at Olivia that way. "They're intellectual equals, but they've got this combination of emotion and independence that makes them way better than HBO to watch." 

Giggling, Shelby nodded. She barely heard Olivia's reply - 'Everyone in the squad wants you. You're the SVU pinup girl, but I can't get hit on in a restaurant once a year?' - as she inched her hand closer to Emma's. "Is that what you want?" Shelby murmured, inclined her head toward the other couple. 

"I think so," Emma replied, stretching her fingers out beside Shelby's. "I know how much they love each other, but they're so damn comfortable. They're friends above everything else. I want that security, that trust." 

"And a kiss that rocks you to your core," Shelby added with a knowing nod. 

Emma nodded in return. "I wouldn't argue against that." 

The lights dimmed in the restaurant, and a cheer went up in the crowd. Emma grinned as the wait staff cleared the tables to the hidden storage panels located on the far walls. The strobe lights started to bounce off the reflective floor and steel beams. Vertical Horizon's 'We Are' opened the dance floor, as was customary. Emma nudged Shelby's shoulder, leaning in to ask the brunette a question. "Wanna dance?" 

"I'd love to." Shelby stood and reached for the back of Emma's chair, guiding it out as the blonde stood. She smiled politely at Alex and Olivia, saying, "If you'll excuse us." 

Emma grinned at her sister as she led Shelby to the dance floor. Alex watched as they passed, resting her arm on the back of Olivia's chair as the twosome started to move among the masses. "They don't look half bad," she commented. 

"I don't like her." 

Alex leaned back, pretending to be surprised. "You? I never would have guessed." She massaged the back of Olivia's neck, brushing her hands underneath the uneven layers of the dark hair that rested there. "Why not? She doesn't have a record, she's been very polite to us, and look at Emma. I haven't seen her smile or giggle this much in a while." 

"She doesn't have a record that we **know** of," Olivia emphasized. "Ted Bundy was very polite to the women he raped and murdered," she added, watching the dancing couple like a hawk. 

"They're talking about us," Shelby commented as she slid an arm around Emma's waist. "Whaddya think they're saying?" From the quick glance she stole at Olivia's face, the brunette didn't think the contents of the conversation were in her favor. 

Emma looked back to the table, and shook her head at Olivia as she wrapped her own arm around the brunette's waist. "I...haven't dated anyone in a while, since my last relationship ended really badly. They're just protective. Insanely so."  She slung an arm around Shelby's neck, watching her partner's face. "Does it matter what they think, anyway?" 

"Not if it won't influence what you think of me," Shelby replied bluntly, her eyes searching Emma's face. She wondered if the blonde felt the same spark she did between them. "I'll be honest with you, okay?" As Emma nodded, Shelby added, "My last relationship went south and it was really bad for me. I think that's why Erin set you and me up together; she knew we had at least that in common." The brunette grinned wryly. "I don't usually date straight girls, so I'm a little nervous about putting myself on the line. I just wanted you to know that." 

Emma smiled. "I've never dated a woman, gay or straight," she confessed. "And I can honestly say I've never dated anyone as feisty or self-assured as you. Anyone ever tell you you're a little intimidating?" 

"Everyone," Shelby admitted with a throaty chuckle. "And I know you're new at this - Erin told me. So I just wanted to make sure we were on the same page." 

"I'm right there with you," Emma agreed, bursting out laughing as the DJ changed the music to a remix of Genesis' 'Land of Confusion'. "How very appropriate," she said, leaning in to make the comment closer to Shelby's ear. 

At the table, Alex stood, holding her hand out to Olivia. "You can baby-sit her better if you're closer to her." 

Grumbling about Alex's sense of humor, Olivia relented enough to take the blonde's hand and follow her to the dance floor. 

Alex drew Olivia's arms around her waist for a minute as they walked to the dance floor. As they situated themselves among the patrons, she turned, wrapping her arms around the brunette's neck, much like her sister had done. "This a good view?" 

The detective's eyes locked onto Alex's face and she grinned. "Perfect." 

"Good answer," Alex commended, closing the gap between them and kissing Olivia gently. 

Shelby grinned and poked Emma in the arm teasingly. "Someone oughta tell them it's not polite to make out in public." 

Emma matched her grin, watching the brunette's eyes follow her sister. "They deserve it, after all the shit they've been through together, and all the shit they'll continue to go through together." 

"What kind?" Shelby asked innocently, tightening her grip on Emma's waist in the slightest. 

Emma shrugged momentarily. "They've just had their ups and downs. Part of it comes from the two of them being as independent as they are. That can be a volatile match. The whole mess with me and my ex didn't help either. Plus, the fact that they work together in a field that isn't kind to women, period, isn't a bonus." 

"Those're a lot of obstacles," Shelby replied quietly. "Nice to see some people don't just split when things get tough." 

Emma tilted her head, her blue eyes questioning. "Do I detect a hint of a story to be told at a more appropriate time?" 

"Probably." 

Emma chuckled again, watching her sister and Olivia deep in conversation parallel to them on the dance floor. _Probably arguing about statutes...or who's going to be on top tonight,_ she thought. 

Shelby watched the other couple for a moment more, before her attention swung back to Emma. "So how are you enjoying your first date with a woman?" she asked, her lips close to the blonde's ear. 

Emma turned her head, standing almost nose-to-nose with the brunette. "I'm enjoying it very much," she replied huskily, her heart beating abnormally fast. "You?" 

"It's not my first," Shelby corrected with a chuckle, "but I'm having a great time." 

"Good." Emma flashed a sly grin again. "Let me know if I can improve it somehow." 

Blushing, Shelby chuckled again, her voice matching Emma's husky tone. "I bet you're quite the flirt once you relax, huh?" 

"If relaxation comes in the form of a few shots of tequila, then I'm your girl," Emma agreed. "Speaking of which, I could use a drink." 

"Don't drink too much," Shelby warned playfully, as they separated enough to walk off the dance floor. "You'll want all your faculties in place later." 

Emma quirked an eyebrow. "And why would I want that?" she bantered back, equally playfully, grabbing Shelby's hand and leading her to the bar. 

Shelby rolled her eyes and gave an exaggerated sigh. "Oh, boy. Virgins." 

Emma laughed, ordering them both a shot. "I'm not as dumb as I sound sometimes," she reassured. 

"I don't believe you're dumb at all," Shelby countered. "Just inexperienced." As if to prove her point, she lifted the shot glass and downed the burning liquid without benefit of salt or lime. 

"Well, I've only been with a couple of men. And look where that got me," Emma replied, toasting her and knocking back the shot herself. She sucked lightly on the lime, her tongue darting out and capturing the sour juices. "You want another?" 

"Yeah," Shelby nodded. She leaned over and pressed her lips to Emma's; her tongue snuck out to lick the tequila off the blonde's. 

Emma froze for a minute, but as her eyes slipped shut, she accepted the soft kiss fully. Alexandra had been right; there **was** something fundamentally different about kissing a woman. Shelby was insistent, but it was a part of her personality, not a claim of ownership. A tingle built from Emma's stomach, and she stroked Shelby's cheek. 

From the dance floor, Alex's eyebrows rose sharply. "Don't look now," she warned, holding Olivia closer against her. 

Olivia turned and her eyes narrowed into slits. "You better distract me," she muttered. 

Alex kissed Olivia again, harder this time, teasing the brunette's lower lip with her tongue. She moved one of her hands from around Olivia's neck and drew it down the detective's back, dragging her nails lightly against the combination of material and exposed skin. 

Breathing heavily, Olivia groaned against Alex's mouth. "God," she murmured, then deepened the kiss. 

Alex made a soft sighing sound as she rested her hand against the small of her partner's back, taking a fistful of Olivia's shirt in her hand as Olivia's tongue teased hers. They hadn't had much physical contact since her return from Boston; the day and night she'd come back was spent going through their relationship point by point, as only they, two rational, organized minds, could. Now that that section of healing had passed, they were like two teenagers, unable to keep their hands off each other. 

Not that Alex was complaining. 

Shelby slid her hand onto Emma's hip, drawing the blonde closer. She paused to ask softly, "You okay?" 

Emma nodded, a beatific smile coloring her face. "Great. Just...admiring the show," she motioned over to the ADA and the detective. "I've never seen them...like that. I never thought either of them would...be...like that." 

"Making out in public?" Shelby teased, trying to get Emma's attention back on her. 

"Yeah." Emma chuckled. "That was always my MO. Weird to see your older sister doing it." Emma rubbed her thumb against Shelby's side. "Sorry." 

"For what?" 

"Getting distracted. I have a notoriously short attention span," Emma explained. 

"Oh, that's all right. I make sure to leave the TV on, so you'll have something to watch over my shoulder," Shelby teased flirtatiously. 

"That's a good plan," Emma agreed. "ESPN's always a safe bet. Or HGTV. I have to redecorate my bathroom at some point this week." She laughed, tucking a piece of her wavy hair behind her ear. "Although, I have a good feeling you'd be able to keep me...entertained." 

Shelby wiggled her eyebrows. "I'd give it my best." 

"I look forward to it," Emma replied huskily, leaning in and teasing Shelby's mouth with her own again. 

Shelby pulled Emma closer, ignoring the two fresh shots of tequila the bartender had lined up in front of them. 

As they separated, Emma licked her lips, blue eyes tinted with gray arousal. "And you're not with anyone when you can kiss like that because..." 

Shelby's eyes darkened to a gray-green, for entirely different reasons. "'Cause I'm very selective about who I kiss," she responded softly. "I've been burned, yanno." 

"I'm sorry," Emma replied immediately, resting her hand on Shelby's hip. "My mouth tends to act before my brain has time to think." 

"It's okay, stop apologizing. I find that refreshing, actually." Shelby grinned softly. "I'm just really careful now, and not many women are willing to wait and pass my tests, I guess." 

Emma handed her another shot, and knocked her own back swiftly. "How am I doing so far?" 

"Pretty good, considering." Shelby drank the tequila down, shaking her head. "God, that's vile shit." 

"You want something else?" Emma asked, leaning across the bar and flagging down her buddy Will. 

"No, really." Shelby laid a hand on Emma's arm. "Thanks." 

"'Kay." Emma hopped down, leaning against the bar, elbows resting against the edge. She noticed Alex and Olivia had returned to the table. She turned back to Shelby, nudging the brunette's foot with the toe of her boot. "We can go somewhere else if you want." 

"It's your call," Shelby said. 

Emma brushed her hand against Shelby's button down shirt. "Someplace quieter might be nice." 

"I know the perfect place," Shelby suggested. "D'you trust me?" she asked with a grin. 

Emma grinned back. "Sure, mainly because I know you'll have the entire Manhattan DA's office, not to mention the NYPD, on your ass if you don't have me home at a decent hour." 

Laughing, Shelby nodded. "Okay, I get it. We're gonna be followed," she teased. "Grab your coat." 

They headed back to the table, where Olivia and Alex remained deep in conversation until Emma rested a hand on her sister's head. "We're gonna jet," she said, handing Shelby her jacket. She leaned down and kissed Alex's cheek. "I'll call you later, okay?" 

"All right," Alex said, smiling at the pair and rubbing a hand on Olivia's knee. "Nice to meet you, Shelby." 

"You too, Alex. Olivia." Shelby nodded politely as she followed Emma out. 

Alex watched them go, and kissed Olivia's cheek as the detective watched Shelby like a hawk. "You did rather well, hon. I'm proud of you." 

"It's okay," Olivia said, turning to smile at Alex. "I trust Emma, and I had Shelby checked out, so I guess she's not in any danger. Besides," the detective added, reaching for her drink, "Elliot's having them tailed." 

* * *

Emma and Shelby chatted about nothing in particular as they raced downtown to their unknown destination. The idle chatter was a nice change of pace from the heavy conversations Emma had had over the past few weeks. As Shelby pulled to a stop, Emma strained to see through the tinted windows of the sports car and tried to figure out where they were. "You brought me to an art museum?" 

"Not just any art museum," Shelby corrected, a wide grin crossing her face. "The Museum of Modern Art." 

"That's damn cool," Emma enthused, climbing out of the car. She checked her cell phone, brow crinkling as she realized it was after midnight. "Hey, I said I was adventurous, but breaking and entering is something I only do on the second date." 

Laughing, Shelby locked the car and reached for Emma's hand. "We're not breaking in. My best friend's the assistant curator and I know for a fact she's working tonight. We just can't touch anything." 

"Nice. I haven't been here in a while," Emma commented as they ascended the steps. 

"You're in for a treat." Shelby beamed as she told Emma, "They remodeled the Moving Exhibits section and the current show is a batch of recently-discovered Dali discards and early sketches." 

"Mmm," Emma drawled. "I visited the Dali museum when I was in Spain. That was right around my obsession with color. Everything I designed looked like a Crayola box had thrown up on it." 

"Spain, huh? I never made it there. I did spend a month in France, studying the Louvre top to bottom," Shelby said, taking Emma up the long flight of stairs and around to the side of the museum, to a door marked 'Employees Only'. 

"Keep talkin'," Emma said huskily, pressing her stomach against Shelby's back. "I only got to spend a few weeks in Paris. I desperately want to go back; there's so much left to see." 

"It's incredible," Shelby agreed, knocking on the door. "The Seine at night was just breathtaking, but I think my favorite part of Paris was just sitting on the sidewalk, in the middle of rush hour, sketching the cafes and all the people rushing by. It's such a relaxed place. Or maybe I was fooled, because it was my vacation," she giggled, as the door opened. 

"Shel!" the woman exclaimed.

Shelby grinned, reaching out to hug her friend. "Cate! You said 'anytime', right?" 

"I didn't necessarily mean midnight, ya jackass," Cate laughed. "But come on in. You just wanna look around?" 

"Yeah, I thought I'd give my date a quick tour of the new exhibit. By the way, Catherine Hart, Emma Cabot." 

"Hi," Emma said, extending her hand with a smile. 

"Nice to meet you." Cate smiled warmly. "Well, take your time. I'll be here for another hour, at least. If you don't finish first, I'll find you when I wanna lock up, 'kay?" 

Shelby nodded. "Sounds good, thanks." Cate disappeared with a pert wave and Shelby slid an arm around Emma. "Ready?" 

Emma nodded. "Lead the way." 

"'Kay." Shelby guided Emma toward the back of the museum, and they stepped through a doorway into a huge room, split into sections with floor-to-ceiling dividers. "Come on." She walked toward one wall, on their right. 

Emma stopped halfway down the hall to admire one of the paintings, only partially lit from above. "This is one of the new Picassos, isn't it?" she turned, her face young and exuberant. "From the show last year." 

"That it is," Shelby confirmed. Her eyes raked over the painting longingly. "It's an early version of a theme; the revision became 'Three Women'." 

"That's amazing," Emma breathed. "I hate myself sometimes, for not taking the classics as seriously as I should have when I was in school. I feel like I missed out on so much." 

"It's never too late." Shelby's arm slipped over Emma's shoulders. "There's always the junior college." 

"I've been considering that. But it's looking like I probably won't have much money to do it." They continued down the hallway to the side room that contained the new exhibit. 

"I teach a class on visual art perception and history, Tuesday and Thursday nights," Shelby smiled. "Sign up, and I'll make sure your fees are waived." She let the silence linger a moment as they walked. "The trial eating up your savings?" Shelby asked softly, after the pause. 

Emma chuckled. "No. Erin's sweet enough that she's working pro bono in exchange for free dinner anytime she goes to Seascape." She sighed, rubbing the back of her neck. "No, I, um...settled. Most of my savings." 

"I'm sorry." Shelby shook her head slowly, directing her comments to a painting. "How could a woman do that to one of her own." It was less of a question than an indictment. 

"One could ask the same question of me. How could I have maintained my innocence for as long as I did when half of the NYPD and DA's offices knew I was guilty?" Emma shrugged, stepping closer to the case holding the old, rotting sketches. "It was just time to end it. I should pay for what I did, and now I am." 

"Because he deserved it," Shelby said, slipping up behind Emma and wrapping her arms around the blonde's waist slowly. "I've been watching the coverage, and I think you sold yourself short. But I can see why you did it." 

Emma smiled despite herself and leaned her head against Shelby's shoulder, caressing the brunette's hands as they rested on her stomach. "I felt guilty getting away unscathed, I think," she confessed quietly. "No matter what anyone around me said, I knew I was responsible." She stopped, laughing humorlessly. "What nice first date conversation." 

"It's better than 'Come here often?'" Shelby asserted with a half-smile. "I like getting to know the real person - most people don't let that person out on first dates." 

"I've tried to be the polite intellectual too many times. I'm not good at it. And I figure, you're going to get to know the real me sooner or later; why should I make us spend more money on future dates if you're not interested in who I really am?" Emma chuckled, shrugging. "This is me." 

Shelby laughed aloud, the sound echoing in the empty, marble room. "I like you." 

Emma tilted her head back, catching Shelby's eyes. "I like you, too." She straightened, still holding on to the brunette's hands. "How did the museum get all this stuff? If I were a fellow curator, I don't think I'd want to part with it." 

"It's on loan," Shelby explained. "It's a touring exhibit from the Spanish Gallery. When it's done here, it's going to Chicago for a month, and then a few more cities before it goes back home." 

"Cool," Emma enthused. "So, do you normally bring all your first dates here?" she teased with a mischievous smile. 

"Nope, you're the first." 

"Well," Emma said, smile turning from playful to almost shy, "I'm touched." She stepped regretfully out of Shelby's embrace and walked to the far wall, looking at the combination of small and large canvasses hanging there. "Van Gogh and Picasso always felt so universal to me. Beautiful, but I could understand it. Dali, on the other hand...is spicy, foreign. I lack understanding with his work, like it's an experience only a few people actually get to have in life." 

"I always saw his work as something ethereal, not really to be understood, but just appreciated for the surface beauty. If you can get beyond that, great, but very few people can." Shelby laid a hand on Emma's back. "I always saw the melted clocks as a way of his stopping the progression of time, as so many of us wish we could do." 

"See? I always thought his watch broke, and he was mourning it by obsessing," Emma grinned. 

Shelby burst out laughing. "You're something else, you know that?" 

Emma giggled. "Well, I try." 

"No, you don't," Shelby replied easily. "You just are." 

"God help us all," Emma replied. "So what's your favorite exhibit here? Mmm, wait, no. Let me guess. You're more in to the sculptures and the statues than you are the paintings, right?" 

"Bingo." Shelby squeezed Emma's shoulder. "Very good." 

"I bet you stood and stared at the Venus de Milo in the Louvre for hours," Emma said, her tongue peeking out between her teeth in teasing. "You just sat down on the steps in front of it and all the other tourists had to walk around you." 

"Yes, they did. And if they yelled at me, I tripped them." 

Emma laughed again, a movement becoming more and more common as the evening progressed. "I bet all the French you know is cursing. That's how you lasted a month." 

"I can cuss out a pushy Frenchman in his mother tongue," Shelby agreed with a grin, "order a glass of the best wine and ask a woman to sleep with me. What else do I need to know?" 

Emma shook her head, sitting on the bench in the middle of the room. "I can't think of a thing." 

"Exactly. Are you getting tired?" Shelby asked quietly. "We can go." 

Emma shrugged. "I just feel like I shouldn't talk too much or too loudly. I mean, we are in a museum, after all." She crossed her long legs, looking up as the brunette hovered over her. "But if you're ready to call it a night, I can call a cab." 

"We're alone," the brunette pointed out in a murmur, claiming the seat beside Emma's. Her gaze shifted downward, admiring the length of her calves. "And it's after midnight." 

"I know," Emma sighed. "You'd be surprised that once in a blue moon, my prudish side comes out. Got any ideas on how to fix that?" 

"I have a few," Shelby laughed. "But let's save 'em for the second date, okay?" 

"A second date, huh?" Emma teased as they stood and headed back towards the employee entrance. "Does this mean I passed the Shelby test?" 

"At least the preliminary interview." 

"Good. I was worried for a minute there." They continued to chat about their European exploits until Shelby pulled to a stop in front of Emma's apartment building. "Well," Emma said, clearing her throat. "Thanks for a great evening. I had a wonderful time." 

Shelby sounded almost surprised when she admitted, "Me, too. Can - when can I see you again?" she asked softly, toying with a chunk of Emma's hair. 

"Whenever you want," Emma replied, idly stroking the brunette's knee. 

"Tomorrow?" 

Emma grinned. "So you're a mind-reader, too, huh?" She leaned over and kissed the side of Shelby's mouth. "Eight?" 

"Better make it seven," Shelby murmured breathlessly, kissing Emma quickly. 

Emma smiled against her mouth, kissing her gently once more. "Seven it is. Pick me up?" 

"I'll be there," Shelby promised, stealing one last kiss. "Now go, before I follow you up," she teased. 

"Bye," Emma whispered, climbing out of the car. She watched Shelby speed off and smiled, turning and waving at the undercover car on the opposite side of the street. 

* * *

The knocking at her door resounded in her foggy head. She groaned, pulling the covers over her head, until she heard a muffled voice call out her name. She sighed and rose out of bed, shivering as she exited her bedroom into the cooler exterior of her apartment. Careful not to trip over her Old Navy moose pajama pants, Emma called out to the person still knocking on her door. "I'm coming, I'm coming." She fixed her hair in a ponytail and checked the peephole. "Unless you have coffee, John, I officially hate you." 

Munch's face was set in a grim expression - grimmer than usual, that is. "Emma, we've gotta talk." 

Emma opened the door further, allowing him to enter. "What's up?" She motioned to the couch, rubbing her bare arms. 

"Siddown." Munch grabbed a chair and rested his elbows on his knees. "I've got some bad news." 

"Oh, God. Is Alex all right? Olivia?" Emma shook her head. "I knew I should have called them last night to check in." 

"No, no, they're fine," Munch hurried to inform her. "Sorry, I didn't mean to worry you like that. It's about Caroline." 

"Caroline?" Emma's tone was uncaring. "Why're you here about her?" 

Munch cleared his throat. "She's dead."

THE END


	15. Stricken

"The First Noel".

That's what ran through my head as the ambulance disappeared from view.  Elliot tugged on my arm, and I heard him, soft and muffled, as if he were in a tunnel - or a tomb - pleading that we had to follow her to the hospital.  But above his voice, softer yet somehow louder, the strains of the Christmas carol reverberated in my mind.  

I had come home late one evening, surprised by the light coming from beneath my apartment door.  I stepped across the threshold and caught her eye with the first smile I'd managed all week.  Alex was in my kitchen, arranging sushi and chicken teriyaki on two plates, and Jim Brickman's Christmas album was playing softly in the background.  She smiled when I teased her about Christmas music in September - the smile that she said was reserved for me.  It was one of the last moments Alex and I had shared alone before catching this mockery of a case, and as Elliot stood there trying to bring me back to the moment, the melody crashed against the memory like a pair of cymbals.

Finally, his voice rose above the music in my mind, and I turned blank eyes to his face, amazed that my partner - former Marine and stalwart cop - was struggling not to cry.  I didn't have tears, yet.  I couldn't comprehend what had happened, so when Elliot insisted that we follow the ambulance, I just nodded and climbed into the car.

We rode in silence.  I think he was searching for something to say, and I couldn't speak.  The drive took forever and yet seemed to take hardly any time at all, and the hospital's hallways were a blur as we strode from the emergency room, up to the surgical floor, and down to the nurse's station there.

The first thing I remember distinctly was the sound of the nurse's voice as she disparagingly inquired after our relationship to Alex.  "Friends," I told her, my voice resonating dully.  She shook her head, and I heard the answer before she spoke it.  The doctor would only speak to family.

Family.  _Jesus Christ, Emma!  How in God's name am I going to tell her?_

Elliot argued with the nurse for a few minutes, but it was no use.  He wanted to take me home; I shook my head and sank down into a chair.  "Go," I said softly.  "I'm fine."

"No, you're not," he accused gently, crouching beside me.  "If you're staying, I'm staying."  I didn't reply.  For the next two hours, I sat staring at the clock, watching the seconds tick by.  I didn't even have the energy to will them to move.

Two distinct scenes clamored for attention in my mind, as if the movie screen in my mind was stuck on repeat.  The first was Alex - my exquisite Alexandra - lying in a filthy heap where Mark had left her to die.  Bloody, beaten and broken, she was still the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen.  The second was the sight of her black-red blood coming out through the ravaged gash in her porcelain skin, spurting over the silver ring she'd given me years ago.

Emma had needed me the last time, but now, I had nothing, no one to keep me from sinking into the well of wondering.  What if Alex died?  What if that little bullet in her shoulder could rob my sweetheart of the strength that had sustained her against thirty-odd years of pain, disillusionment and abuse?  What if I couldn't make it without her?

A doctor in a blood-spattered gown stepped out from behind two swinging doors and spoke quickly to the nurse, who glanced at us with a shake of her head.  _Not family_.  I read it in her eyes.  He disregarded the warning and stepped over to us.  The doctor's face came into sharp relief against the mud and fog in my brain.  "Are you here for Alexandra Cabot?"

"Yeah," I steadied my voice long enough to reply.  "Is she okay?"

He took a deep breath, and my fisted hands began to tremble.  I knew what came next.  I had prepared for it in every one of my very worst nightmares.

"When she came in, Miss Cabot had already lost an unfortunate amount of blood.  By the time we got her into surgery, there wasn't much we could do.  I'm sorry, but she didn't make it."

I managed to hear him out until the end, and it was then that my knees buckled.  I fell back into the chair and begged the room to stop spinning.  Her face leapt to my mind, all gold-rimmed glasses and genuine grin, whispering silently, "I love you."

* * *

The irony is, I remember every single detail of that night, no matter how hard I try.  I will myself to forget I was wearing a white tank top and plaid pajama pants.  I wish I didn't remember that my hips were swinging in time to the drum beat in Evanescence's "Taking Over Me".  I wish I hadn't done a double-take when there was a soft thud against my door.  Most of all, I wish I had ignored the sound and left the door shut.

The alarm bells started ringing when I saw Olivia through the peephole.  There was something different about her eyes that night, but I couldn't pinpoint it.  Not until I ushered her inside and asked her what was wrong did I understand.

Of all the things I remember, the sound of me hitting the floor and the sheer pain that shot through me resonates the most.  I can still feel the pain in my calves and knees.  My throat still hurts from the screaming; my fists are still bruised and bloody from beating Olivia and her vicious lies.  My Allie couldn't be dead.  No way in hell would that girl ever go, especially not because of some punkass drug-induced drive-by.  Not my beloved Alexandra.  Not her.  Please, God, anybody but her.

I can't get through the day yet without thinking about her and bursting into tears.  It's too fresh, too new.  And yet, for each tear I cry, I'm convinced she'll walk through the door or call me and tell me to suck it up.

I worry about Donald and the squad.  I even worry about my mother, who moved from Connecticut to Rochester in a reconciliation attempt.  But of course, I worry most about Olivia.  Neither of us can find the words to explain the devastation, the emptiness, the loss.  I don't even know my name half the time anymore.  Not only have I lost my sister, but I've lost myself.  I don't know where I begin, and where the hurt ends.

I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror.  A simple black suit, with a black turtleneck.  My hair is up, my ears bare.  My chin crumbles again, and I grasp the dresser for support to keep me upright.  I search for the phone, ready to call Alex for a pep talk.  My hand dials half her number before I remember.  Again.

  
* * *

October 2

I wanted so badly to hug you last night.  But I knew, as I know you do, if I had, I never would have let go.   Please know that getting back into that car and leaving you behind was the single hardest thing I've ever had to do.

I'm sure you have a thousand questions as to what happened.  I don't know exactly, but I have some theories.  I don't remember much about the night I was shot.  I remember you, and the bar…and I remember you whispering to me to stay with you.  You called me sweetheart in the middle of the street, and I wanted to reprimand you for outing yourself to everyone within earshot.  I fell asleep after that, and the next thing I remember, I was in a small hospital.  Completely alone—I thought back to the episode of the X-Files you like so much…Audrey Pauley, I think.  A man in a suit came in, and showed me his badge—the feds.  Oh joy.  He told me I was lucky.  I asked where you were.  He looked at me strangely, and said that I was number one on Velez' hit list.  He told me they had a plane waiting—I needed to get out of town as soon as possible.

The doctors made him wait a few days, and that's when I refused to sign the discharge papers until they let me see you again.  I told them I wanted Elliot there too, so I didn't raise any eyebrows, and so you'd have someone to talk to once you realized I was alive.  My heart was in my throat during the entire ride to the Hamptons—what your reaction would be, whether I had made the right decision.  I still don't know if I made the decision for you or if it was a selfish one.  I certainly hope I haven't caused you any more pain.  But the thought of being alive and you not knowing ate me up—and that was only for three days.  I know I may be gone for months, years—living with that pain, and having you live with it too was just an unacceptable situation.

They've settled me in here—it's a beautiful old house in the middle of nowhere.  I would almost enjoy myself if the circumstances were different.  There are two people on my detail right now—one man and one woman.  I swear they're sleeping together, but they're both allegedly married, so I have no proof just yet.  They'll be with me until around Thanksgiving, and a new detail will arrive.

It's hard to think about being gone that long—but until they can extradite and try Velez, it's just not safe.  I played with fire once, and got burned pretty bad.  I'd hate to scald you or Emma too.

I keep telling myself it will get better.  It has to get better.  Please, God, let it get better.

* * *

"Emma, I'm so sorry for your loss.  God be with you," Father Callahan grasped the blonde's hand tightly.  Emma managed a weak nod and held onto Olivia as they walked up the aisle of Saint Matthew's church.  The only remaining Cabot child slid across the first pew, tears already forming at the large print of her slain sister standing to the right of the altar.  Emma kept her head down, raising it only slightly as the mayor and the DA approached.

Her mind wandered to anything, especially the mundane, trying to escape from the current surroundings and circumstances.  If she remembered where she was, and why she was there, Emma was certain she'd probably hyperventilate from the wracking sobs that had shaken her body since Olivia told her about Alex.  Flanked by Donald and Olivia on either side, her hands were tied up in the detectives'.  Periodically, she felt John's hand brush her shoulders, and she'd raise her head just slightly in thanks.  As the eulogy approached, Emma tightened her grip on Olivia's hand, looking at the detective for the first time since they'd arrived.

The old priest cleared his throat and began introducing the people who had asked to speak.  "Some of the friends and family members of the deceased would like to say a few words about her.  Her friend, Olivia Benson, asked that she be permitted to go first.  Olivia."  He gestured for her to take the podium.

_Friend, _Olivia chuckled mentally.  _If only you knew...  _Mustering her energy, Olivia squeezed Emma's hand before releasing it, then stood and climbed the three small, carpeted steps to the altar.  Clearing her own throat, she started to speak.  "I'm not sure I know where to begin."  In truth, though, she did - at the beginning.

"I met Alexandra five years ago this month.  From the instant we met, I knew Alex was unique.  She was forthright, even blunt, but always managed to be tactful.  Loyal to a fault, she prided honesty above all else, and she wouldn't hesitate to tell you what she thought, even if you hadn't asked."  A wistful smile crossed Olivia's lips and she pushed it aside, for propriety's sake.  "Despite not being in touch for almost a year, when she moved to the city, Alex and I picked up right where we'd left off."  _From a kiss in a parking lot to a kiss on Emma's balcony_, Olivia thought with a tearful mental grin.  "Alex was one of the best friends I've ever had," Olivia continued, offering a comforting half-smile Emma's way, raising her voice slightly, "and I know that no matter what, she will never really be dead to me, or to anyone who knew her.  Alexandra Cabot is alive and well," Olivia said, risking a glance in Elliot's direction, "in my heart," the brunette detective added, her throat filling with unshed tears as her eyes returned to Emma's brokenhearted expression.  "I know, I absolutely know," Olivia said firmly, "that Alexandra is better off wherever she is, and although she misses us as much as we miss her, she's safe."  She paused, hoping she'd managed to convey her message, then murmured, "Thank you," and stepped off the dais and slid back into her seat beside Emma.

"Thank you, Olivia," Father Callahan said softly.  "Emma Cabot, Alexandra's younger sister, would like to address you now."

Cragen helped Emma up to the dais, making sure she could stand on her own before he returned to his seat.  Emma licked her lips and set the paper down in front of her with shaking hands.  "I'm sure you'll all forgive me when I tell you I have absolutely no idea what to say," she began.  "How do you sum up the life of the most spectacular person to ever roam the Earth?"  She felt the tears welling, and tried to blink them away.  "Alexandra Grace Cabot was my hero.  She really was everything I wished I could be.  I used to tease her with that Bette Midler song, but it was the truth.  She was the strongest woman I ever knew, the most compassionate, the smartest...and she was really working on her fashion sense, so we have to give her props for that."  There were a few scattered chuckles in the congregation, and Emma smiled thinly.  "She truly was my savior.  She saved me from injustice, from harm, and from myself when I needed her to.  And she was the greatest teacher.  She taught me more about the Fourth Amendment than I ever needed to know."  Emma paused again, wiping at her eyes.  "She also taught me to be fearless.  When I was around her, I wasn't scared of anything or anyone.  I don't quite know what to do without that helping hand, but I'm sure she'll get her next life lesson through somehow."  Emma looked up to the ceiling, the midmorning sunshine reflecting through the stained glass and onto the exposed beams.  

"I will miss her every minute of every day, and I don't doubt that I would give anything to have her back.  But she'd tell us all that we have to accept the bad things in life, no matter how much they hurt.  I hate it when she's right."  Emma sniffled, the tears cascading down her cheeks, her chest rising in a half-swallowed sob.  "Remember her for the fighter she was, the lover she was.  And do me a favor, and remember that life really is short.  Don't take it for granted."  Emma looked at the print for the first time, gazing at her sister's features.  "I love you, forever and always, Allie," she whispered.  She held on to Cragen as she descended the steps, and fell into Olivia's comforting embrace as the service continued.

Drying her tears, Emma wiped her nose discreetly and straightened against the pew.  She half-heard the remainder of the service, and only remembered to rise as Olivia lifted her to her feet as the funeral concluded.  She made some semblance of a smile as the priest and altar boys nodded towards her and recessed down the aisle.  She followed into the sunny morning, wincing as the light hit her eyes.  It was a gorgeous fall day - one tailor-made for Alexandra in a brown suit with a cream turtleneck underneath.  The tears once again threatened, and Emma stood away from the crowd, rubbing her arms as a gust of wind tickled her hair.

Olivia watched Emma across the steps of the church, where she was murmuring inanities like, "I'm sure Alex would've appreciated you being here."  She couldn't look at Emma for more than a moment before her gaze lowered to the ground in guilt.  Olivia felt a hand on her elbow and turned, meeting Elliot's eyes with a soft sigh of relief.  "Hey."

"Hey," he replied quietly.  "How you holdin' up?" 

"Ehn."  Olivia shrugged, glancing around quickly as she lowered her voice.  "I feel like the biggest fuck on the planet," she admitted in a low tone.  "You?"

Elliot breathed deeply.  "Yeah, that about sums it up," he chuckled humorlessly.  "It's like I'm being torn in half - I'm thrilled, but at the same time, I'm the world's biggest liar.  The guilt is indescribable.  And you know me," he added unnecessarily, "I don't do guilt." 

"Yeah, me either."  Olivia half-smiled at her partner, grateful that, at the very least, she had someone with whom to share her torment.  "Elliot," the detective murmured after a moment of silence, "I've gotta tell Emma."

Elliot shook his head.  "You can't, Liv," he said, pulling her away from the crowd of mourners.  "If she knows, she'll get too excited.  She'll want to know everything - and that could jeopardize not only her life, but ours, and especially Alex's."  He stood close to her, speaking in hushed tones.  "I know how much this is killing you.  It's killing me too.  But the only way we can keep anyone safe is to keep quiet."

"I can't."  Olivia shook her head, pleading eyes swerving toward Emma's tear-streaked face.  "This is killing her."

Elliot shook his head.  "And it hurts me to see her that devastated.  But Olivia," he implored her with her given name, "she's survived for thirty years.  She's seen more heartbreak and anguish than even we have.  She can handle this.  And remember, it's just temporary."  Placing a strong hand on his partner's shoulders, Elliot looked into brokenhearted eyes.  "If you tell her, one of two things could happen.  Emma could make noise, try to find out where Alex is.  That'll tip off Velez, and Alex'll be in more danger than ever.  Or the feds find out we talked, and they put her so far underground, she'll never be able to contact us again.  Those aren't acceptable options in any way, shape or form." 

Olivia sucked in a shaky breath and nodded unwilling agreement.  "I guess..."  Her eyes went to Emma once again, and her heart broke, but she realized Elliot was right.  She knew she couldn't tell Emma the truth; Olivia had just needed to hear it from someone outside her own head.  "I can't take that chance."

"You and I are in this together.  I promise," Elliot said, squeezing his partner's shoulder.  He looked back to the dissipating crowd and cocked his head back to Emma, who still stood away from the remaining parishioners.  "Wanna get going?" 

"Yeah."  Olivia offered Elliot a grateful smile before stepping out of his grasp.  "Hey, Em," she called, "wanna go?"

It took Elliot placing a hand on her shoulder for Emma to turn around and acknowledge the detectives.  She nodded numbly and followed them to the waiting sedan. As Elliot started the car and pulled it out of the parking lot, Emma focused on the duties and schedule that lay ahead of her.  It was easier to be meticulous and cold in her behavior than to remember why she was putting on such a front.  In lieu of an official wake, it was decided that the gathering after the service would be held in the SVU bullpen, and the next day, a service at the cemetery for Alex's closest friends.  After that, a few stiff drinks and a trip out of the city to get some perspective were on the itinerary.

Emma rested her temple against the window, closing her eyes.  "It was a good service," she commented softly.  

"Yeah."  Olivia sighed softly.  "She would've loved the gardenias."

"She would've sneezed at the beginning," Emma giggled.  "For as strong as she was, I'll never get why she resisted those allergy shots so much."

"She hates needles," Olivia recalled with a chuckle, falling silent as she heard her own slip of the tongue.

Emma smiled wistfully.  "I feel like I spent all my life nagging her, instead of living every moment and being thankful I had them."

Shaking her head swiftly, Olivia slid her hand over Emma's.  "That's not how Alex saw it.  She told me how much it meant to her that you took such an interest in her, even if you were teasing her about her clothes and lack of a social life."

Emma chuckled even as her eyes filled with tears.  "I don't know what I'm going to do without her," she confessed for the first time, the hopelessness flooding her senses like a tidal wave.  She grasped onto Olivia's hand.  "She's gone, Olivia.  She's really gone." 

Breathing deeply, the detective shook her head firmly.  "No," she murmured softly, acutely aware of Elliot's presence.  "Not as long as you remember her, okay?  She won't really be gone."

The tears streamed unbidden down her sleek cheeks.  "When did you start believing in all this shit?" she queried, only half angry.  "How many times did you and I talk about death being as final as worms eating you in the ground?"

Swallowing hard, Olivia searched for a plausible explanation.  "Maybe now that it's someone I ... know," she hesitated, "maybe I need to believe that it's not worms and dirt, it's palm trees and sunshine."

"Many people will remember Alex," Emma conceded, "but how is that supposed to make me feel any better?  She won't call me anymore.  She won't beg and plead with me not to make her watch 'Shrek' for the five millionth time.  She won't see me fall in love again.  She won't see her nieces and nephews.  How are palm trees and sunshine supposed to make all that okay?"

Biting the inside of her cheek, it was all Olivia could do to swallow the bile of guilt that rose up in her throat.  "It won't make it okay," she conceded, "maybe just a little easier.  Emma," Olivia turned halfway in her seat to face the blonde.  "If you knew that the next thirty years of Alex's life, she'd be stalked - every single day - by men far worse than Mark..."  The brunette trailed off as she said his name for the first time in over a year.  "If you knew that any enjoyment she might have with you and me would be overshadowed by this awful threat hanging over her head, would you still rather have her here than someplace where she's safe and protected?"

"Are you actually saying she's better off dead?" Emma seethed softly.  

Elliot looked warningly at Olivia.  He understood what she was trying to do, but it was backfiring, and doing the one thing he knew the brunette never wanted to do - hurting Emma more.

Gnawing harder on her lip, Olivia felt control of the conversation slipping away, and she found herself in a position she'd never quite experienced before – on the receiving end of the Emma Cabot glare.

"Of **course** not," she backpedaled.  "I was just trying to make a point."  Olivia sighed heavily.  "Em, I'm just...oh, fuck it."  She sank back against the seat, tears of frustration welling behind her eyelids.

They sat in silence for a few minutes before Emma spoke again.  "I'm sorry," she began, eyes still trained on the scenery speeding by.  "I just don't know how to react when people tell me she's in a better place, that she's safe now.  I still haven't come to terms with the fact that she's not here anymore, and it's extremely frustrating when others don't get that I'm still in the denial and anger stages."

"I get it," Olivia murmured.  "I was just trying to ... you know ... help you see the other side."

Elliot finally pulled up in front of the 16th precinct.  Emma got out of the car without finishing the conversation, but waited for the two detectives in what she hoped was a sign of understanding, if not forgiveness.  The trio walked into the offices without a word, and the crowd quieted as they did.  All eyes turned to Emma, and the blonde cleared her throat.  "Thank you all for coming.  It means a lot."  She nodded, allowing everyone to return to their conversations.  "I'm going to get a cup of coffee," she informed the two detectives.  "Either of you want anything?"

"No, thanks."  Olivia watched Emma walk away and sighed deeply.  "Dammit."

"You're doing the best you can," Elliot replied.  "Emma's not going to understand the innuendos, Olivia.  She's way too sensitive right now to even hear them.  So don't worry about it.  Just support her the way you do, okay?" 

Nodding, Olivia stepped away from him and turned toward the window.  She stared out through the dirt and grime at the blue and white lights of the patrol cars as they pulled in with newly arrested suspects, or victims needing to make reports.  She sighed under her breath, noting mentally that she'd been doing it a lot lately, and had better stop.  _No use stressing over it, if I can't fix it_.  Elliot was right - all she could do was take care of Emma as she'd always done, and wait for Alex's return, whenever that would be.  Olivia closed her eyes against the mid-afternoon sun, glaring at her like the harsh reality it was: Alex might never be able to come back to Manhattan.  Opening her eyes again, Olivia peered out the window, wondering where Alex was right that minute, hoping it was some sandy beach in Mexico, or a villa in the south of France.  If they had to be separated like this, at least she could imagine that Alex was enjoying life undercover.

He approached her from behind with very little sound.  He cleared his throat, though, so as not to startle her.  "How you holding up?" Cragen asked quietly, staring out the same window.

Not looking at him, Olivia shrugged.  "Best I can," she replied simply.  "You?"  With that, she glanced in Cragen's direction, trying to gauge the impact of her deceit on his life.

Cragen scoffed.  "I don't think 'shitty' comes close."  He took off his formal gloves and set them on an adjacent desk.  "Is anyone staying with Emma?"

"Yeah, I've been there since..." Olivia let the sentence dangle unfinished in the air between them.

"Good," Cragen nodded.  He looked across the room into his office, watching Emma as she sat silently at his desk.  "How bad is she?" 

"Shitty's a start," Olivia said quietly.  "But who can blame her?"

Cragen sighed.  "I wish I knew what to say to her.  Alex was always..."  he cleared his throat.  "I never truly realized how much Alex was the glue that held it all together."

"She still is," Olivia murmured.

Cragen turned to the brunette.  "You need to take some time, Olivia.  Take Emma to the mountains for a week, clear your heads, all right?"

Olivia's head snapped toward him and she shook it rapidly.  "No, thanks.  We're goin' away this weekend, but I can't leave."  She gestured toward Elliot and Fin, who were talking in hushed tones across the room.  "They need me."

"Out of all of us, you lost the most," Cragen replied quietly.  "I don't want you back before you're emotionally ready to be."

"I'm ready."  Olivia left it at that and hoped Cragen would follow suit.

Cragen nodded, dropping it after one final plea.  "If you find yourself not so ready, let me know."

"I will."  Olivia turned slightly and looked him square in the eye.  "Cap, listen, I...I know how much she meant to you," the detective rushed on, "and I just wanted to thank you.  You've been really great for Emma this past week, and I know it's gotta be harder than hell on you."

Cragen chuckled.  "Thanks, Olivia.  But to be honest, I wasn't doing it for her."  He looked back at the blonde, whose shoulders were sagging under the weight of the day.  Cragen watched as Munch settled in behind her, rubbing her shoulders without comment.  "It was the only way I had to stay alive."

Olivia's stomach sank as she followed Cragen's eyes.  "Cap...Don..."  She started and stopped, wavering between the damage the lie was doing to him and Emma and the risk the truth posed to Alex.

"I'm going to go say my hellos to the brass," Cragen finally said after the silence passed between them.  "You'll get her home?"

"Of course."  Olivia smiled thinly at her boss.  "See you Monday."

Elliot watched Cragen move away from his partner, and he strode over to fill the spot the Captain had vacated.  "I think I'm gonna cut out and get home to the kids.  The guilt is still a lot to deal with."

"Yeah, I hear ya."  Olivia's hand slipped out, and in a rare gesture of physical emotion, stroked Elliot's bicep for a split second.  "Thanks," she added simply.

"You know where to find me if you need someone to talk to," Elliot replied before grabbing his jacket and leaving.

Munch exited Cragen's office and passed Olivia, squeezing her shoulder.  He refilled Emma's tea, stopping and staring at the doorway.  "Olivia, is that who it looks like?"

"Holy fuck," Olivia breathed.  She strode toward the door with determined steps, placing herself discreetly between Emma, in Cragen's office, and the blonde in the doorway.  "Afternoon, Victoria."

Victoria straightened, resting a jeweled hand on her stomach.  "Detective Benson."  The blonde looked around the gathering momentarily before looking Olivia straight in the eye.  "I'm so sorry for your loss.  I know how much you cared for Alexandra." 

Lowering her voice to a discreet growl, Olivia replied, "And I know how little you cared for your daughter, so why are you here?"

Victoria, for the first time ever in public, balked.  "She was my **daughter**, Detective.  My flesh and blood.  Arguably the savior of my family.  Yes, she and I had our differences.  But I gave birth to her.  I raised her to be the woman you adored.  Don't you **ever** presume you understand the depth of my feelings for any of my children, especially Alex."

"You raised her?"  Olivia allowed herself a throaty chuckle.  "You had nothing to do with the way my Alex turned out." She glared at the older woman in disbelief.  "Where do you get the nerve..."

Victoria shook her head and raised her hand, brushing Olivia aside.  "Where is Emma?"

"Right here."  The voice piped up from behind Olivia.

Victoria moved around the detective and put her hand on Emma's upper arm. "Petit.  How are you?"

"Hello, Mommy," Emma replied, her voice nearly devoid of emotion.  "I'm surprised to see you here."

"As I was explaining to Olivia, I loved Alexandra very, very much.  Just as I love you."  Victoria tilted Emma's eyes towards her.  "You look exhausted, Emma Katherine.  When was the last time you slept?"

Emma snorted derisively.  "Next she's going to ask me when I last ate," she said to Olivia.  "My mommy, the comedienne even in the direst of times."  Looking back at her mother, Emma steeled her eyes and will.  "My mother died when I was eight years old, the first time she let her husband lay his hands on me.  I don't know what kind of reconciliation you were trying with Allie, but I'll be damned if you try that shit with me.  You have no right to be here.  Get out."

Victoria stood stunned.  "Emma--"

Emma turned to Olivia.  "I'm sure Cragen will be more than happy to help you escort her out."

Olivia glanced from Emma to her mother, then reached out and slid her hand over Victoria's wrist in a death grip.  "You heard her, let's go."

Victoria shrugged and struggled against Olivia's tight grasp, finally yanking her arm back painfully.  She dug into her purse and handed Emma a business card.  "That has my home number on it.  If you change your mind...I'd love to hear from you, honey."

Emma chuckled, but took the card, tucking it into her suit pocket.  Victoria looked relieved for a moment, and then turned back toward the hallway.  "I can find my way out, Detective Benson, but I appreciate the gesture."  The elevator doors swallowed her, and as her mother's face disappeared from view, Emma slumped against Elliot's desk.  "Goddamn."

"I'm sorry, Em," Olivia said regretfully.  "I should've kicked her ass out the minute she walked in."

Emma shook her head.  "It's not your fault.  She is my mother after all."  The blonde shrugged.  "She almost looked sad.  Like, genuinely upset.  How weird is that?"

"I think she just made that face and had it Botoxed like that," Olivia guessed.

Emma sputtered some laughter, the sound startling to their ears.  She hadn't laughed in an eternity.  "Do you remember when Alex slugged Carrie?" Emma continued.  "Now **that** was funny."

"God, I thought I was gonna--" Olivia cut herself off before she could utter the meaningless phrase.  "Wine and cheeseburgers," the detective said suddenly.

"What a classy broad," Emma murmured, echoing something Olivia had said while Alex was in the hospital recovering from Mark's attack.  "Did you know she kept that pin on her at all times?  She would pin it on the underside of her lapel, rest it in her pockets, anything to have you near her."  Emma smiled, tearing up again.  "She was so lucky to have found you," she whispered, hurt that even in death, her sister couldn't be herself.

Olivia's chest constricted as she shook her head.  "You're kidding," she said softly.  "It was just a stupid pin."  She recalled vividly the moment she had pinned her five-year service gift on Alex's hospital gown.  'For heroism above and beyond the call of duty.'  Her hand went to the silver ring on her right hand, now scrubbed thoroughly clean.

"It meant the world to her," Emma disagreed.  "It was completely you, but more importantly, it was a reminder of everything you'd been through, and the fact that you were still together in spite of it." 

Nodding solemnly, Olivia heaved a silent sigh.  "I wish I could turn back time," she told Emma honestly.  She'd turn it back to ten seconds before they stepped out of the restaurant and take that bullet herself.

"All this because she trained herself never to be scared of anyone," Emma shook her head with a sigh.  "I knew she was strong, but God, I would give anything to have had her back down."  She continued to shake her head as the tears fell.  "The most ironic part is that I would feel so much better if I could have just held her one last time.  If I had only known..."

"Emma, please don't," Olivia said, choking back tears.  "None of us knew, or we'd have done a lot of things differently."

"God, with all this boo-hooing, you'd think we were at a funeral or something," Emma joked, pulling a tissue out of her pocket.  "I try to remember that I can't change it, that no matter how hard I try, she'll still be gone.  But every now and again I just have to wallow."  She took a deep breath and pursed her lips. "I don't know how I'm supposed to do this without her." 

"You just...do."  Olivia sighed deeply.  "One day at a time, until..."  _Until she comes back._

Emma wiped her eyes again.  "Do you think we could get out of here?" she asked, her voice hoarse and strained.

"Absolutely."  Olivia glanced around the room for Munch, waving him over.  "We're gonna get going," she informed the other detective.  "I'm out 'till Monday, but if there's an emergency, I'll have my beeper and cell," she reminded him.  "Elliot has the number of the resort, in case..."  _In case something happens to Alex,_ she finished mentally.

Munch nodded, slinging an arm around Emma and kissing her temple.  "Normally I would come up with something profound and possibly Jewish, but instead, I order you to have a few rounds with Jose Cuervo, okay?"

Emma chuckled, hugging him fully.  "Thanks, John."  She discarded her tissue in the wastebasket and turned to Olivia.  "Let's go."

* * *

Olivia sank under the hot water, sighing in delight.  She was grateful for the resort's 'Jacuzzi tub in every suite' policy, she was grateful for the unlimited hot water that was allowing her to take a second soak in a searing bath, but most of all, the detective was grateful that Emma had fallen asleep on the drive up, and had chosen to continue her nap, giving Olivia two hours in which she needn't feel guilty or walk on eggshells.  That, in itself, made her feel guilty - the woman had just lost her sister, and was being unwittingly deceived by her best friend, someone she considered another sister, and here Olivia was, resenting her for being inconsolable.

Emma rolled over on the couch, wiping her mouth of the embarrassing river of drool.  She sat up and checked the clock on the table.  She heard sloshing and figured Olivia to be in the bathroom.  Running a hand through her hair, Emma sat back on the oversized couch, hugging a pillow to her chest.  The drive to Vermont had forced Emma's tired body to rest, and it had her yearning for sleep for the first time in nearly a week.  She stood up, wandering around the large suite - the which, she was sure, was triple the size of her first apartment in the city.  She opened the door to the balcony, sitting down in the wooden rocker.  She watched the leaves blowing in the late evening breeze, and she closed her eyes, feeling the gentle wind as a caress.  Looking up to the sky, the emotions and the exhaustion hit their peak.  For the first time since Olivia arrived at her door on the night of her sister's death, Emma broke down and sobbed.

Unaware that Emma had woken up, Olivia wrapped herself in a fluffy white robe and sank down onto the closed toilet seat.  For the first time since she and Elliot had seen Alex off, Olivia allowed herself a sincere, albeit small, smile.  In the face of the pain as she saw in the people around her, Olivia was clinging to the image of Alex on a sandy beach, relaxing and tanning her fair skin.  Toweling her short hair dry, the detective stood and ran her fingers through the mop, and the strands fell back in place.  She made her way through the suite, noticing the empty couch and open porch door.  "Em?" she called softly, as she trekked toward the balcony.

Emma heard her coming, but couldn't find her breath.  The sobs that she'd held in since Alex's death shattered through, shaking her body from head to toe.  She rested a hand on her chest, trying to calm herself, but the harder she tried, the harder the tears came.  Olivia stepped through the door, and the lingering remnants of her smile disappeared as she crouched down and opened her arms to Emma without a word.  Emma threw herself into the brunette's arms, gathering fistfuls of terrycloth in her hands.  No words were exchanged as she sobbed, pausing only to hiccup momentarily.  "It's okay," Olivia murmured sympathetically, stroking Emma's back in slow circles.  "Shhh."

Emma lost control, lost in her devastation and desolation, and cried harder.  She rocked against Olivia, hysterical.  "God, why?" she sobbed.  "Why did it have to be her?"

"I don't know," Olivia murmured unhelpfully, wishing with everything she had that she could tell Emma the truth.

Emma cried for a few minutes longer and finally took a few deep breaths, sitting back in the chair and wiping her eyes.  "I'm sorry," she said softly, almost silently, "I guess I can only hold back for so long." 

"You don't have to apologize," Olivia reprimanded her gently, rising from her crouch and perching on the rocker's ottoman.  "You have a perfect right to be upset."

Emma ran another hand through her hair, leaning forward again and resting her arms on her thighs.  "It finally hit me that she's really gone.  I'm so scared, Olivia."

Olivia tilted her head slightly.  "Scared of what?" she asked gently.

"Doing this without her.  I never realized how wrapped up my life was in her.  My whole life has changed, every dynamic has shifted.  That gives me a huge sense of foreboding, and it's just...overwhelming."  Emma shook her head.  "And I just ache, you know?  I hurt so badly, in ways I never even imagined.  I'm scared of the seriousness of that."

Taking a deep breath, Olivia began twisting her ring subconsciously.  "It sucks," she began quietly, "doing this without her.  But we have to, for as long as it takes," she added enigmatically.  "It's going to hurt for a while," Olivia acknowledged, releasing her ring and resting a hand on Emma's knee.  "But you know if Alex saw you like this, she'd slap you upside the head and tell you to move on.  To some extent, that's what we have to do."

"How long do you think it's gonna take?" Emma asked softly, eyes filling with new tears.

"A while," was all Olivia could say.  She squeezed the blonde's hand and expelled a long breath.  "We've both just gotta be strong."

Emma laughed humorlessly.  "Strong is about the last thing I feel right now." 

"I know, Roo," Olivia murmured, her thumb stroking the back of Emma's hand.  "That's why I'm here." 

Emma nodded, pulling Olivia closer to her once again.  "I love you."

"I love you, too."  Olivia wrapped her arms around Emma's waist and hugged the blonde tenderly.

Emma buried her face in the crook of Olivia's neck.  She kissed the brunette's neck, right below her ear, and sat back again.  "You don't smell anymore," she teased, running a hand through Olivia's damp locks.  "Well, at least that's one less thing I have to cry about." 

Chuckling softly, Olivia reached out and cupped Emma's cheek. "It'll be okay," she promised, her voice hollow.  She knew it wouldn't ever be 'okay'.  When Alex came back, Emma would be able to stop grieving for her, but Olivia knew the blonde would never trust her again.  The thought of the impending end of their friendship put the detective's stomach in knots as even worry over Alex could not.

Emma closed her eyes and covered Olivia's hand with her own.  "I know.  Eventually.  It's just the getting there that sucks."  The blonde opened her eyes and looked out beyond Olivia as another gust of wind rustled the changing leaves.  "You're probably freezing," she admonished the detective, closing the brunette's robe for her.  "I'm going to make some tea.  You want?"

"Why don't I make it?" Olivia suggested, standing up and tugging her robe further closed.  "You go take a shower."

Emma stood as well.  "Did you leave me any hot water, Nemo?" 

Olivia swatted at Emma's arm with a gentle smile.  "Ah, hush up," she ordered.  "It's a hotel, there's plenty of hot water to go around."

Emma smiled back, taking Olivia's hand in hers again.  "Thanks, Liv.  For everything.  I can't imagine what this would be like if you weren't here, going through the same thing." 

Nodding, Olivia tried to cover the guilt she knew must be revealed in her eyes.  "Go," she said quickly.

"'Kay," Emma replied, moving into the room, unbuttoning her dress shirt as she went.  It didn't surprise her just how distant Olivia was; the emotion and despair Olivia was feeling was probably twice what Emma was feeling, and it was undoubtedly easier for the detective to rely on her ability to be stoic and unattached than it was to address the aftermath.  As Emma stripped and tossed her clothes on the tiled floor, she reached in and started the shower.  She sniffled, getting used to the lumps in her throat and her stomach - she knew they would be there for a while.  

The hatred she felt for her sister surprised her, and nearly knocked her off-balance as she stepped into the stall.  Maybe that was part of the reason she was so emotional - if Alexandra wasn't already dead, Emma was certain she'd kill her herself for putting them all through this.  The war on drugs, they both knew, was one that would never be won.  For as tough as the citizens thought lawmakers were on getting drugs off the street, it just wasn't true.  If any arrests were made, they were the small distributors, not the suppliers.  And the law hadn't caught up to the demand yet - the supply of serious penalties just wasn't there, and those distributors were back out on the street within two years, if not earlier.  Emma wondered why her sister thought she could change a system and a war older than their parents - Alex wasn't that naive or stupid.

"Damn it, Alex," Emma growled under her breath, resting the palm of her hand against the tiled wall.  "God fucking DAMN IT!"  She slammed her palm against the wall, curling it instinctively into a fist as the pain set in.  "You stupid bitch," Emma seethed as her tears mixed with the shower water.  "You couldn't just let it go, could you?"

Her shoulders rose as the sobs reemerged, but this time, they weren't the silent ones Olivia had seen earlier on the balcony.  Instead, they were screams and howls that buckled her knees in their intensity.  Blindly, Emma stumbled backwards and found the seat the resort had placed in the stall.  She knocked the shampoo and conditioner off and sat down on the ledge, burying her face in her hands.  She slapped the seat until her hands were numb, rocking back and forth as she cried.  Finally, when she couldn't see and could barely breathe from crying and the water that flowed easily into her open mouth, she reached over and turned the spray off.  She hadn't washed her hair or her body, but the blonde had the presence of mind to know that if she stayed in the shower any longer, she'd probably drown.

Emma fumbled for the towel she'd set out and drew it around her shoulders.  She sank onto the floor, her numbness not allowing her to feel the sharp contrast of the tile on her bare ass.  She continued rocking and pulled the towel tighter around her body, her tears dissipating into the puddle beneath her.  Finally, she stood on shaky legs and opened the bathroom door.  Olivia was nowhere to be seen, thank God, so Emma crossed to the dresser and pulled out her penguin pajamas.  She brushed her hair and put it up in a clip.  Her eyes were red and swollen, her hand bruised from lashing out at the shower stall.  She sighed and sat on the bed, having no energy to move into the living room.

Olivia stepped out of the tiny kitchenette and rounded the corner, a mug of steaming tea in each hand.  "Feel better?" she asked pointedly, setting Emma's cup on the nightstand.

Emma chuckled.  "Not particularly," she replied, holding her hand tenderly.  "I'm entering my anger stage."

"So I heard."  Olivia strode back into the kitchen and reappeared with a baggie full of ice, handing it to Emma wordlessly.

Emma lowered her head in embarrassment.  She gasped slightly as the ice settled on her hand, but said nothing for a few more minutes.  "I always knew she was driven, that she wanted to make a difference.  But I also thought she knew when to stop, you know?  She knew she wasn't invincible - why keep pushing when people bigger than you push back?"

Settling down on the bed beside Emma, Olivia had no immediate reply.  After a while, she answered thoughtfully, "I think Alex saw all the damage that people like...that drugs can do."  She realized quickly that she couldn't get into specifics with Emma.  "And she feels - felt - obliged to do everything she could to get the drugs and the dealers off the street."

"Okay, if Nancy Reagan can't do it, why the hell could she?"  Emma shook her head, reaching back and picking up the mug Olivia had brought for her.  "I guess I would just like to know what the hell she was thinking.  I mean, she had to have known what kind of danger she was in.  They killed that other woman.  She had to have known they could kill her too."

"I'm sure she knew," Olivia replied slowly.  "But you know Alex...ten feet tall and bulletproof.  I think she was so bent on securing justice for Livia Sandoval that she didn't stop to think about herself," she answered honestly.

"Or the rest of us," Emma replied.  She tucked a renegade lock of hair behind her ear and took a long sip of tea.  "That's something else I don't understand, Liv.  Livia Sandoval was dead.  What does she care about justice?  I mean, I can understand wanting justice for victims who are alive.  But why put yourself on the line for someone who can't appreciate it?"

Olivia sighed softly, shaking her head.  Truth be told, the detective understood where Emma was coming from, although she was sure she would've done the same thing in Alex's position.  "She got a call from Livia's parents.  Her mother stayed on the phone with Alex for at least an hour," she told Emma.  "She was crying, and begging Alex not to let her daughter's killer go free.  Now," she said, determination in her voice, "could you turn down a request like that?"

Emma pursed her lips.  "If I knew her daughter's killer was coming after me next, hell yeah I could."  She shrugged, frustrated.  "So maybe I'm not the most sympathetic person in the world.  But this is why I'm not a counselor, a cop or a DA.  I just feel like she put herself on the line way too much, and it finally got her killed."

"That was Alex," Olivia said, her voice tinged with pride.  She hated how much easier it was for her to see the altruism in Alex's persistence, and how hurt Emma was.  "She did what she felt she had to."

"I'm glad you've come to terms with this," Emma said, somewhat bitterly.  "Forgive me if I wallow for a little while longer."

"I'm not saying you shouldn't be upset, or angry," Olivia replied, growing frustrated with her inability to say something - anything - of value.  "You asked and I answered."

Emma looked out the window.  "I guess you're right.  I just...you know, a traffic accident I can understand.  Her falling into a giant manhole, I can understand.  But I feel like she had control over this, that had she just stepped away, I wouldn't be feeling this way.  She did this just as much as the shooter did.  That's really hard for me to comprehend."

"I know."  They sat in silence for a moment, until Olivia changed the topic.  "Are you hungry?"

Emma shrugged.  "I could eat a little, I guess.  You want to order room service, or do you want to go out?" 

"Your call."

Emma flopped back on the bed, removing her clip before falling backwards.  "Stay in, I think."  She reached behind the room phone and picked up the room service menu.  "Ooh, a cheese platter."

"You and your cheese," Olivia teased gently.  "Get me a burger and iced tea," she requested.  "I've gotta check my e-mail."  Despite having promised Emma a few days of solitude, Olivia knew she couldn't just abandon her job.  She settled at the small dining table next to the kitchenette and opened her laptop.  Olivia deleted a couple of junk e-mails and opened one from Elliot, 'just checking in'.  She nodded in satisfaction and hit "delete", the next e-mail popping up automatically.

_With all the jet setting I've done, you'd think I was Sydney Bristow, only I don't have the neat wardrobe.  Got here safely - took a wrong turn at Albuquerque, but then again, my sense of direction never was that good.  I miss you, and I love you._

_Take care of the anklebiter for me._

Olivia read the note three times, comprehension dawning slowly.  "Holy shit!" she exclaimed before she could stop herself.  The brunette covered her mouth with one hand, attempting to stifle her shit-eating grin.  Tears welled up in her eyes and Olivia blinked them back with difficulty.  Her chest tightened and she shook her head in amazement.

"Liv?" Emma called from the other room.  "You okay?" 

"I'm fine," Olivia hastened to reply.  "Just opened some porn spam by accident.  This chick must **really** love her dog." 

Emma laughed.  "Thanks for the image there, Sparky.  Food should be here in about twenty minutes." 

"Great, thanks."  Olivia hit "reply" and erased the text of the original message, in case Emma decided to poke her head in.  She pondered her reply for a good five minutes, finally settling on simple but meaningful.

_If I could, then I would, go wherever you will go.  Buy me a t-shirt._

After pressing "send", Olivia went back to checking her e-mail, with a more concealed smile.  Her 'new mail' announcer dinged and she deleted the last of the old notes, eyeing the subject line of the new e-mail with a sigh.  _Message Undeliverable_, it read. _Unknown Member_.  _Damn_, Olivia cursed mentally.  "Should've known," she muttered aloud.  This one-way communication would have to suffice for now, she supposed.  Olivia shut down the laptop and headed back into the other room.

Emma was propped against the headboard, her hair down and air-drying, crinkling in its natural state.  She was leafing through an 'Entertainment Weekly', her other reading material discarded next to her slender hips.  She looked up as Olivia walked in, and took off her glasses.  "Work still standing?" 

"More or less," Olivia replied, amazed at how much Emma looked like Alex in that moment.  She didn't say anything, for fear of exacerbating open wounds.  "Cragen says hi."

"I hope he's okay.  He's worse than you when it comes to expressing his feelings."  Emma winked at Olivia teasingly, scooting her reading material to the end of the bed in case Olivia wanted to sit down next to her.  "How long do you think it'll take them to fill her spot?"

Olivia shook her head.  "It'll be a long time before anyone half as dedicated as your sister comes along, but they've already started interviewing candidates, and from what the grapevine tells me, they've got a front runner."

"Well, for your sake, I hope she's cute," Emma teased, resting her head on the pile of pillows behind her.  "How hard do you think it's going to be for you to get over her?"

Startled, Olivia didn't reply, as she walked around the bed and climbed in beside Emma, stretching out.  "What do you mean 'get over her'?"

Emma shrugged.  "I don't know.  I mean, Mark's been gone, what, over a year?  And I haven't been out on more than two real dates since.  I just wonder about you - whether you'll ever let yourself think about a relationship again.  Obviously," Emma hurried on, "I don't want you going out and banging the first thing you see.  You should mourn, definitely.  But I love you just as much as I love my sister.  And I want you happy.  I'd hate to see you hold back from any potential happiness."

"Emma..."  Olivia sighed, staring at the ceiling.  "I spent more than thirty years looking for someone like Alex.  Even if I wanted to move on, I don't think I'd ever find someone I click with the way I did with her, someone who appreciates me like that.  If I did...it would probably be Alex reincarnated."  She allowed herself a small smile.

Emma smiled.  "That's a scary thought."  She played with the hem of her shirt, brushing her fingers between the bare skin of her stomach and her pajama top.  "I guess I'm just looking for something that I can control in some way, that will give me my sense of normalcy back."

"And my love life is that something?"

"Well, it's a start, anyway.  I don't know."  Emma ran a frustrated hand sharply through her hair.  "I'm just so damn confused.  I feel like my head's spinning, and my life is utterly random.  I just...want one simple thing to hang on to." 

Extending a hand, Olivia slipped her fingers between Emma's.  "How 'bout me?"

Emma's eyes welled up, and she leaned across, kissing Olivia lightly.  "Thanks, Kanga."

"Anytime, Roo."  There was a knock on the door and Olivia slid out of bed to sign for their dinner.  She came back carrying a tray laden with food and drinks.  "Jeez, a little hungry?" she teased Emma, pleased that the blonde's famous appetite was returning.

Emma blushed.  "It's just munchies.  I thought we could order a few movies.  For that, as you well know, we need snacks."  She took her soda and Olivia's iced tea, placing them next to her cup of hot tea.  "And anyway, you always accuse me of stealing your food, so I thought I'd get enough for me, and let you eat in peace."

"Good plan."  Olivia flipped on the television, saw the ad for "Miss Congeniality" on pay-per-view, and settled in for the night.

* * *

Emma wiped her forehead and sat down in the chair across from her sister's abandoned desk.  The office had boxes everywhere, some half-full, others not yet touched.  She had stood in the doorway for about twenty minutes before even entering the space.  She was sure the staff in the adjacent offices wondered, and there were more than a few double-takes.  Finally, she had put her bag down and rolled up her sleeves.

She put Alex's books away easily.  Most of the remaining law statues and files had already been removed by the time she was asked to come in and take the rest of her sister's personal belongings.  The only thing left for Emma to do now was pack up Alex's pictures and a few pieces of clothing her sister had left in the closet.  As she picked up the picture from her birthday party at the Russian Tea Room, it became too overwhelming.  She pulled out her cell phone and dialed Olivia's desk, curling her fist around her mouth to suppress the potential sobs.

"Benson," Olivia answered distractedly.

Emma took a shuddering breath.  "It's me," she said, her voice betraying her obvious state of upset.

Her senses heightened, Olivia dropped what she was doing and turned her attention to the call.  "Em, what's wrong?"  She had grown used to the phone calls, at least two or three a day, during which she had to convince Emma that life without Alex would go on, despite her pain.  Olivia didn't mind being the shoulder Emma cried on, but this was her fourth call that morning - more than the norm, and the detective was beginning to worry.

Emma sighed loudly.  "I'm in her office," she said, swiping at the tears that started to fall.  "I...I thought I could handle this.  I really did.  But it's just getting to be too much."  She took another shuddering breath.  "Do you think you could help me out?  It doesn't have to be today, but it needs to be done by the end of the week."

"Yeah, of course," Olivia replied sympathetically.  "Go on home, I'll head over there after work."

"Thanks.  I'll let them know."  Emma blew her nose. "I promise I won't call more than five more times." 

"Call as many times as you need.  Just...try to stay calm, okay?"  Olivia was concerned that Emma was going to cry herself sick one of these days.

"Thanks."  Emma disconnected, and gathered her bag quickly, shutting the door to Alex's office without a second look back.  

Half past five found Olivia in the chair that Emma had vacated that morning.  She glanced around the office, impressed that the younger woman had gotten as far as she had in boxing up Alex's things.  Olivia reached for a picture that lay face-down on the desk, obviously discarded in a hurry.  _Alex and Emma at her birthday party_, she noted.  _That would've done it_.  Her fingers lovingly traced the outline of Alex's face, then Emma's, sighing as she wished for the billionth time that she could tell Emma the truth.  "God, sweetheart," she murmured aloud to Alex's photograph, "she's really a mess, you know that?  Misses you like you wouldn't believe.  Hell, so do I, but it's not the same."

The knock on the open door interrupted Olivia's one-sided conversation and she whirled, embarrassed as she saw the visitor.  "Miss Donnelly," she greeted the older woman civilly.

"Detective Benson," the Executive ADA said with a polite smile.  "I hope I'm not interrupting."

Olivia set the picture back on the desk and shook her head.  "Not at all.  I was just cleaning out some of Alex's things."  She knew Liz Donnelly was aware of the nature of her relationship with Alex - every Tom, Dick and Harry with a quarter for the New York Ledger knew about them, thanks to Olivia's outing them at Emma's civil trial.  Despite the charges being dropped after Caroline's death, that juicy little tidbit had still made its way to a reporter's ear, and thus onto the second page of the Ledger under the headline "No Leads on Slain A.D.A.".  The second page started with, "Survived by her partner, Detective Olivia Benson of the 16th Precinct, Manhattan", and Olivia had braced herself for the fallout.  However, there had been relatively little so far.  She supposed that was more of a professional courtesy than an indication of any open-minded attitude on the part of her colleagues outside SVU.  "Was there something you needed?"

"Just came by to pick up some cases she left behind," Donnelly said, striding over to the filing cabinet and opening the drawer.  "We cleaned most of them out yesterday, but a few were missed."  She slid the brown folders out and nodded to Olivia.  "Thanks.  By the way, I'm sorry about the pension thing."

"What pension thing?" Olivia replied brilliantly, truly confused.

"Oh, they didn't tell you?  You must know that when a city employee of Alexandra's level dies, their surviving spouse or domestic partner is entitled to the full pension they would've received at retirement."  At Olivia's nod, Donnelly continued.  "Since Arthur and I know about your..."  She paused to clear her throat.  "Well, we know how close you and Alexandra were, and we tried to convince the city that you should receive her pension, but they were adamant - no D.P. papers, no benefits.  I'm sorry."

Olivia sat silently for a long moment, shocked by the outward shows of support by Alex's supervisor and the D.A.  Although, she reasoned, they may have considered the pension a small price to pay for not having to deal with Alex's "lifestyle" and its publicity-related ramifications on a daily basis.  "Thank you," she managed to reply.  "I'm sure Alex would've appreciated the fact that you tried at all."

"Right.  Well..." Donnelly was obviously uncomfortable now that she'd said her piece.  She gestured with the file folders.  "I got what I came for.  If you need anything, you know where my office is."  Donnelly slipped out, shutting the door behind her and leaving Olivia to mull the interesting turn of events as she began stacking Alex's knickknacks in an empty box.

* * *

_I think it's safe to say this is the turning point in my being away from you._

_The days immediately after I left were consumed by fear - that I'd go insane, or that one of the feds on my detail was actually tied to Velez, or that I'd kill said feds for being royal pains in the ass._

_I made it through Halloween, barely did on Emma's birthday.  I enjoyed an actual home-cooked Thanksgiving dinner.  (The new detail's wife sent him with a cooler.  Remind me to send her a thank-you card when I get out of here.)  But now, as fall turns to winter, and the little sun I enjoy fades ever so quickly, your birthday approaches._

_I know your routine - you walked to work today because you love the early winter.  The wind still bites at you, but not as harshly.  My heart breaks when I think about you, probably in the wool trench Emma gave you last Christmas.  You've probably pulled it out from under your bed by now, and you're wearing the leather gloves and Burberry scarf I bought for you last year.  You told me I was too extravagant, but the minute you felt that material against your face, you were just as girly as I ever was.  Even if it was only for a moment._

_The memories I have of you play in my mind - they are my only tie to sanity at this point.  Don't worry, the setup where I am isn't "The Shining" or anything - I've got Internet, satellite and a library bigger than Emma's apartment, but there are still those times before I fall asleep that I think of you.  Your beautiful face, your kind spirit, your perseverance. Those thoughts, while I adore them, break me down.  I feel as if I'm no longer the strong, indestructible Alexandra you once knew.  I am tarnished, and I ache to feel your arms around me._

_It's no secret that you and I have had our problems, our ups and downs.  But it is no longer a secret that I love you with everything I have, Olivia.  When I come home, please make no mistake that, if you'll still have me, I will be coming home to you._

_I hope that these words, and the ones before, will make my absence a little easier for you.  I love you, sweetheart._

_Do me two favors.  One, don't wish for me when Emma makes you wish before blowing out the candles on the cake she made you.  Wish for a new scarf or something.  Two, take care of the anklebiter.  Three, don't sleep with her._

_A_

* * *

Olivia untangled herself from Emma's embrace and stood, slipping out of the room on silent feet. Emma had had a nightmare, had pleaded with Olivia to hold her until she fell asleep, and soon the brunette was snoring softly beside the blonde.  Rather than turning the heat on, she reached for her NYPD sweatshirt and drew it on over her flannel pajama pants and white tank top.  Leaning against the frost-covered window, Olivia sighed softly as she eyed the clock.  One a.m. – that meant it was her birthday.  A deep weight settled in her chest as she realized again that there would be no candlelit dinner with Alex that would warm Olivia to the core.  There would be no outrageously expensive gift from Alex that Olivia would weakly demand the blonde return because she didn't deserve it.  There would be no soft words from Alex's lips as they snuggled together – with the window cracked because Olivia loved the cold, and under an electric blanket and a down comforter because Alexandra did not – telling the detective how loved she was, how despite what she may have thought, her birth was a blessing, not only to the ADA but to the citizens of New York she strove to protect every day.

Despite her internal reprimands, Olivia began to cry silently.  She missed Alex with every fiber of her being, and the fact that she was alive seemed small consolation, since she didn't know when – or even if – the attorney would be able to return.  Olivia wondered how many birthdays Alex would miss, how many Christmases, how many life events of hers and Emma's her partner would miss out on before she came home.  In the darkness of her living room, Olivia let go of the constraints she'd placed around her grief and let the tears flow.

Olivia had a five-minute limit on crying, and when she felt she'd reached it, she took a deep, shuddering breath and shook herself mentally.  _Enough.  This isn't constructive.  _Unable to return to bed, Olivia stepped into the tiny alcove serving as her home office, and booted up her laptop.  The screen winked to life and all her programs started up as Olivia clicked on her e-mail inbox, scanning the contents quickly.  Nothing from Alex, but then, she hadn't expected anything so soon.  Two e-mails in less than three months was too much to hope for.

Sk8rChik:  Hey, what's up?

Olivia eyed the encroaching IM with disdain, and typed out a brusque reply.

Liv121268: Do I know you?

Sk8rChik:  :-)  One would hope.

Liv121268: You'll have to be a bit more specific.  I don't know that I am acquainted with any "Sk8er" girls.

Sk8rChik:  I know your penchant for Avril Lavigne, the queen of "Sk8er" girls.  Don't try to lie to me, Detective.

Olivia sat back, her mind whirling as she tried to figure out who knew her well enough to know she was a detective, but not well enough to know she despised that particular young singer.  Suddenly, it clicked, and Olivia's face split with a huge grin.

Liv121268: I hate Avril with a passion.  But my girlfriend loves her 'music'.

Sk8rChik:  You have to admit, she's fairly driven for a sixteen year old.  At least she covers her navel.  And she's brought 80s ties back - we should all thank her for that.

Liv121268: You sound like my friend, Emma.  I think 80s ties could've stayed exactly where they were for all I care.

Sk8rChik:  How is your friend Emma?

Liv121268: Not so good.  More and more nightmares lately, but she's trying to be strong.

Sk8rChik:  I'm so sorry to hear that.  And how are you?

Liv121268: Better now.  What's a Sk8rChik doing up so late/early anyway?

Sk8rChik:  Couldn't sleep.  There's a nasty wind storm here.  And I'm missing a certain December baby on her birthday.  Congrats on being an old fart, by the way.

Liv121268: Hell, I was an old fart long before I ever met you.  Catch up, Chik.

Sk8rChik:  LOL.  Always the comedian.  I do miss you, though.

Liv121268: I miss you, too.  Thanks for the birthday wishes.  Now, where's my gift?  :-)

Sk8rChik:  flashes the screen There you go.

Olivia burst out in gales of silent laughter and couldn't type a reply for a long moment.

Liv121268: Thanks, but it doesn't mean much unless I get to cop a feel.

Sk8rChik:  I'm sure you'd have no problem finding dozens of willing participants to grant you that little birthday wish.

Liv121268: Probably not, but I enjoy not having my kneecaps broken by hired goons, which is what would happen if I strayed.

Sk8rChik:  Sounds like that girlfriend of yours isn't so much fun.  I mean, it **is** your birthday.  You should have some fun.

Liv121268: I would, if she were here.  Until then...well, there's always porn.

Sk8rChik:  Internet porn?  So that's what you're doing up this late. 

Liv121268: Exactly.  Surfing the 'net for pictures of barely-legal teens young enough to be my daughter.  Sex Crimes Detective by day, Internet Porn Monger by night!  That's me.  Jesus, I hope IAB never gets a hold of this.  That'd be fun to explain.

Sk8rChik:  They won't.  IMs are not traceable.  Although, I wouldn't be surprised if they got an "anonymous tip" tomorrow...;-)

Liv121268: Any ETA yet?

Sk8rChik:  None.  Although, I'm not privy to any details that would result in an ETA, so I'm flying blind.

Liv121268: Poor thing.  And you hate to fly.

Sk8rChik:  Totally.  It hurts my arms.

Liv121268: God, I miss you.

Sk8rChik:  I miss you, too.  So much.

Liv121268: I miss the way you smell…when you've showered.

Sk8rChik:  LMAO!  Thank you, darling.  But I'm sure you miss the way I stink, too - you and I always seemed to enjoy desmellifying me.

Liv121268: Good God, don't remind me.  Emma and I went to a resort a couple of months ago, right after the funeral, and they had a little seat in the shower...I blushed just looking at it.

Sk8rChik:  The great Detective Benson, blushing.  I would have paid money to see that.

Liv121268: You've seen that – several thousand times, as I recall.  I miss you so much, I'm wearing your stupid Red Sox sweatshirt. :P  They still suck, though.

Sk8rChik:  Yuck the Fankees, sweetie.  I get to see all the games, though - they have satellite up here, and they got me the baseball package.  Thank God the neighbors are miles away - I would scare them with my cussing.

Liv121268: I miss your potty mouth, too.  Well, the 'mouth' part.

Sk8rChik:  I've got a surprise for you, the next time we see each other.

Liv121268: A surprise?  What is it?

Sk8rChik:  The bangs are growing out.

Liv121268: Thank fuck.  And why is it when you say 'the great Detective Benson', I see 'The Great Mouse Detective'?  I've been spending too much time with Emma.

Sk8rChik:  LOL on both counts.  So I tried something different, and it failed.  Sue me.  I saw 'An American Tail' on the Disney Channel the other day - burst into tears when they sang "Somewhere Out There".  The fibbies were very, very scared.

Liv121268: Scaring the feebs, that's my girl.  So, that's us, huh?  Two little mice, halfway across the world from each other, singing into thimbles.

Sk8rChik:  Well, I sing into my hairbrush.

Liv121268: And I usually use Jackson.

Sk8rChik:  Olivia!

Liv121268: Yes?

Sk8rChik:  Well, I guess he's not getting used any other way...carry on.

Liv121268: Exactly.  Well.......that you know of.

Sk8rChik:  Oh!  Shot through the heart!

Liv121268: Glad to know I can still shock you.

Sk8rChik:  Always.

Liv121268: You miss the way I kiss your neck?

Sk8rChik:  Always.

Liv121268: The way I touch you?

Sk8rChik:  Of course.

Liv121268: The way my tongue feels on you?

Sk8rChik:  How can I miss something you never did?  :-)

Liv121268: Perdon moi?  I'm insulted.

Sk8rChik:  I miss everything about you, my love.  The way you rub my back to ease me awake in the morning so I don't bitch you out.  The way you bring me any dinner I want whenever I mention it offhandedly.  I miss the way you make me laugh, the way we debate everything from politics to Homer Simpson's favorite donuts.  I miss feeling you next to me, the way you make love to me.  I miss the way you lean back and tell me you love me in the most reverent tones.

Liv121268: I do love you.  I hate that you make me cry.

Sk8rChik:  Please don't cry.  I don't know what to do when you cry.

Liv121268: That's because I never do it.

Sk8rChik:  I'm so sorry about all this.

Liv121268: It's not your fault.

Sk8rChik:  Sure it is.  Stop being so damn forgiving.

Liv121268: It is not.  Stop being so damn stubborn.

Sk8rChik:  So what is Emma doing for your birthday? 

Liv121268: Her present to me is not slitting her wrists...Sigh.  I think we're going to T.G.I. Friday's, and possibly a show, if I can drag her out of the house.  It's too close to Christmas for her to be anything but depressed.  I wish I could tell her.

Sk8rChik:  I know.  I do too, some days.  But she'd raise red flags if she knew - we both know she'd come after me.  I can take care of myself in this situation.  But she'd be dead within half a second if his people found out about her.

Sk8rChik:  I'm sorry she's having such a hard time with this.  Is she seeing her therapist again? 

Liv121268: I know all of that…doesn't make it easier.  She's been talking to Huang, every once in a while.  I think talking makes it too real for her.

Sk8rChik: God, this sucks.

Liv121268: Sucks and blows.  I wish I didn't miss you so much.  I wish I could sleep through the night without waking up and wondering why you're not there.

Sk8rChik:  You need to stop making me cry, Detective.

Liv121268: Oh, baby, don't.  Please.  I'll do anything, just don't.

Sk8rChik:  I feel like half of me is missing without you.  I didn't realize it was going to be this hard - I really wonder if I would have gone through with this if I knew the ramifications.  But I couldn't risk you, or Emma, after it was so blatantly obvious he could get to any one of us.

Liv121268: We could've all run away to Mexico.

Sk8rChik:  Honey, Mexico is halfway between Colombia and the US, and the fourth largest drug market, behind the US, Colombia and Europe.  We'd be in greater danger there than if I was in New York.

Liv121268: Fine, Paris then.  Picky, picky.  You're such a Sally.

Sk8rChik:  Emma doesn't know French.  Can you just see her, "Parlay views Frawncais?  Ew est el potty?"

Liv121268: We'd buy her a pocket translator.

Sk8rChik:  She'd want a life-sized one named Pierre.

Liv121268: And this is a problem how?  It'd keep her out of our hair when we're trying to take a romantic stroll down the Seine.

Sk8rChik:  Mmm, with Notre Dame lit up and music from the bistros following our leisurely pace.

Liv121268: I'll be on the next plane.

Sk8rChik:  Hey, the fibbies would pay - let's meet in one of the suites at the Ritz.

Liv121268: Done.  Christmas Eve, Paris?

Sk8rChik:  You got it.

Liv121268: You should get some sleep.

Sk8rChik:  At least tonight I'll go with a smile on my face.

Liv121268: Amen.  Sleep tight.  I love you so much it hurts.

Sk8rChik:  At least we'll have Paris.

Liv121268: That's "We'll always have Paris", doofus.

Sk8rChik:  Oh.  Whatever.

Sk8rChik:  I love you, baby.  So, so much.

Liv121268: Me, too.

Sk8rChik:  Happy birthday. 

Liv121268: Thanks.  Next year, I expect my usual Birthday Spanking.  No excuses.

Sk8rChik:  LOL.  You got it, Sparky.  Good night, Detective.  I love you.

Liv121268: Night.  I love you, too.  Go, before I do the c-word again.

Sk8rChik signed off at 01:16:45.

* * *

December 24

Merry Christmas, my darling.

I'm sorry I haven't been able to contact you since your birthday—the winter's settled in harshly here, and the power flickers pretty much every time the wind blows.  They should have put me up in the Virgin Islands or something.  Oh, well.

I'm sorry I couldn't make my flight to Paris.  Maybe we can do it for my birthday.

The detail is wondering why I'm smiling all the time now.  Well, not all the time—I still get pretty down sometimes as the snow falls and the wind howls.  But talking to you—through email, instant messaging and this journal—it makes it almost okay.  Just imagining your face, remembering you and everything we've been through—it makes the days go buy just a little bit easier.

I was listening to Amanda Marshall the other day.  "I always think about you, I always will…"  Indeed.  You truly are my saving grace, the one thing that makes all this worth it.  It still hurts like the devil, being apart from you.  But I feel now like it's okay, like there's a light at the end of the tunnel.  And before you get smart alecky with me, no, it's not the oncoming train.

I'm proud of you, dealing with the pain of knowing the truth.  I can't imagine the depth of the pain and frustration that's causing you.  But like I told you before, I couldn't live this life knowing you were mourning a death that wasn't real.  

Well, I'll let you get back to the hours upon hours of Christmas music I'm sure Emma has played since the day after Thanksgiving, probably before.  

I love you, my grace.  Be strong. 

I'll be home for Christmas; you can count on me.  I'll be home for Christmas, if only in my dreams.

THE END


	16. Foundation

January 15

I'm really missing you today.  

I find myself consumed by wondering what your daily activities are.  Are you still running every morning before work, or are you letting yourself snuggle under that down comforter I love so much?  Are you throwing yourself into work, or are you actually having fun once in a while?

It's been a little over a month since our online conversation.  That IM name is no longer; the feds found it and reamed me a new one.  They think I should stay completely under, at least until my birthday, and then I can poke my head out in emails again.  My birthday.  God, this sucks.  I can't believe it's been almost six months since I left.  It feels like so much longer.  There's only so much mindless television and so many home decorating shows I can watch - the days pass much more slowly now than they did when I first came here.  I fear I'm becoming more and more depressed.  I thought talking to you would ease my pain and make our separation just a little easier, but I think it's had the opposite effect; having just a taste of you again has made it that much harder to maintain my distance.  I think back to your birthday and feel a mixture of happiness and despair.  It's a difficult addition to the myriad of emotions that color my perspective.

I've been thinking a lot about Emma lately.  I hope by now she's moved on, gotten her life back together, as best she can under the circumstances.  Is there any word on the investigation into Caroline's death?  It happened right before the whole Velez thing did.  I'm afraid they might try to get to Emma, and it would destroy whatever is left of her.  I know you'll protect her as best you can, but no one can protect her fully from herself.  

I wonder sometimes if I'm the reason she's so fragile in circumstances such as these.  I was always there to shield her, protect her from even the slightest hint of danger, and perhaps she can't function on her own because she was never forced to before.  

Add guilt to my myriad.  I should keep a running tally - it'll be easier for you to decipher this journal.

I wonder if I'll ever get the opportunity to let you see this.  When I first got here, I was certain I'd be home soon.  The feds want Velez more than they want a balanced budget.  But here we are, months later, and I'm still not home.  Will I ever get home?  Will I ever get to hold you again?  The thought of staying gone for the rest of my life - the thought that I'll never see you again…

* * *

Olivia rang the doorbell, stifling another sigh.  The day had passed like any other Friday; she'd caught up on paperwork, closed an active case - always a bonus - and had dinner at her favorite Italian restaurant, courtesy of the new ADA.  While she was certainly no Alexandra Cabot, Casey seemed to be fitting in to SVU just fine.  She was professional and polite, and for every case she successfully prosecuted, she treated the lead detectives to dinner.  Olivia had warned her that doing so would set a bad precedent - soon they'd come to expect it, and in a matter of months, she'd be broke.

It wasn't until she stopped by Rite-Aid for a six-pack and a few bags of chips, in preparation for her weekly movie night with Emma, that Olivia realized that day was any different from a normal Friday.  The racks upon racks of bright red and pink cards caught her eye first, then the giant hanging sign - "Valentine's Day is this Friday - Don't Forget Your Sweetie's Sweets!"  She had practically run out of the store as fast as possible, and didn't stop until she hit Emma's apartment building.

The detective sighed again, pressing the doorbell once more.

Emma opened the door, clad in jeans and a sweatshirt, her hair in a high ponytail.  "Happy Hallmark Appreciation Day," she joked, letting Olivia pass and locking the door behind her.

"Hey there."  Olivia stepped into the apartment and gestured with the beer she'd brought.  "Fridge or glasses?" she asked.

"Fridge, thanks," Emma replied.  "I just poured myself a glass of wine."  She followed Olivia halfway through the apartment and plopped down on her couch.  "You're late, Sparky."

"Yeah, it's been a long day," Olivia defended herself with a small smile, as she made room in Emma's stuffed refrigerator for the beer.  As she closed it and headed for the wine bottle, she explained, "I ended up having to work late, and then Casey and I went to dinner.  I'm shocked we were even able to get into Antonio's, considering it was a Valentine's dinner, apparently," she added off-handedly.

Emma looked up, startled.  "Casey?  The ADA?"

"Yeah.  You know, she's working out okay."  Olivia took her wineglass and settled down on the couch.  "Sweet girl."

Emma bit the inside of her lip.  "So," she said after a minute, "you and the new ADA went out for Valentine's Day?"  She had brought her emotions under control in the past months, had gone back to work and settled into her routine again without overwhelming difficulty.  But for some reason, the idea of Olivia having dinner with another woman cut her to the core.  She thought momentarily back to their post-funeral retreat, where Emma had asked if Olivia would ever move on.  At the time, Emma had wanted normalcy back, but now, remembering her sister and Olivia's quick dismissal of the idea of anyone but Alexandra, the anger started to bubble up.

"Yeah," Olivia shrugged, misinterpreting Emma's anger for disappointment at not having a date herself.  "I mean, it was her treat 'cause I nailed the Park Bench Rapist, so that was nice.  Anytime I don't pay is nice," she grinned.

"Sounds like you really like her," Emma replied, taking a sip of her own wine and watching the muted television.

"She's pretty cool," Olivia acknowledged.  "Her conviction rate's fairly high, too, which is good.  At least we know we're not getting stuck with a second-string ADA."

"You sleeping with her yet?" 

"What the hell?" Olivia turned on Emma with hurt brown eyes.

Emma shrugged, still looking at the rerun of "While You Were Out".  "Come on, Olivia.  You've been talking about this woman since she came on to the unit in October.  She takes you out to dinner, on **Valentine's Day** for Christ's sake...she's into you.  And you haven't had sex in God knows how long.  All the elements are there."

Olivia stood abruptly, wine sloshing over the edge of her glass as she set it down with barely-controlled fury.  "Fuck you."

Emma finally looked at her, standing up quickly as well.  "Shut the hell up, Olivia."

"Where the hell do you get off?" Olivia demanded.  "Suddenly I'm not allowed to go to dinner with a co-worker?  I'm not allowed to revel in the fact that I did my job and she's appreciative of that fact?"

"A co-worker my ass."  Emma laughed humorlessly.  "Where do you get off, coming in here and sharing your conquests with me?  I don't want to know about it, thanks." 

Olivia's voice rose in anger.  "Conquest?  It was fucking **dinner**.  I love your sister, I always will.  But she's not here, is she?  She's not here to take me out, so yeah, I went with Casey - as **friends**.  And for the record, I don't have to clear my social calendar through you."

Emma sat back down on the couch, resting her chin in her hand.  She was silent for a long minute before looking back up at Olivia.  "Just friends, huh?" 

"Just friends," Olivia said gently.  "You know how I feel about Alex."

"I guess I just don't get that part of it," Emma hypothesized.  "How can you still be in love with a dead person?"

"Maybe she's not dead to me."

"Is that healthy?"

"Probably not," Olivia lied.  "But...I can't help it.  I told you once before," she explained, finally sitting back down, "I waited thirty years for Alex.  If someone came along with her kind heart, and strength, and all those other things I admire in her...then I'd consider it."  Olivia grinned genuinely.  "But the odds of that are really long, and frankly, I'd rather just concentrate on what Alex and I had, rather than trying to recreate it with someone else - especially the woman who replaced her in my professional life," the detective added.  "That'd just be too creepy."

"I guess I can understand that.  And I really shouldn't sit in judgment.  When was the last time I went out?"  Emma smiled softly, then knocked Olivia's shoulder with hers.  "Sorry I freaked."

"S'okay," Olivia nudged her back.  "Just don't jump to conclusions like that.  You'll pull a hamstring."

Emma smiled, heading into the kitchen to make some popcorn.  "Don and I had lunch today," she called.  "He told me about the Homicide Investigator's conference next month.  I don't know why he thinks that's interesting to me, but whatever."  She set the timer on the microwave and stood in the doorway, pulling her hair out of its constraints.  "Are you gonna go?" 

"They asked me to present a paper on stranger versus acquaintance rape, so I was thinkin' about it," Olivia replied.  "Would you be okay if I took off for a week and a half?"

Emma nodded, running her hands through her loose, long hair.  She'd let it grow out since Alex died, and it was wavy now, damp from her shower.  "Totally."  She cocked her head, watching the brunette.  "I'm better now, you know.  She's been gone almost six months.  I'm getting back to functioning rather well, I'd say."

"Definitely," Olivia agreed quickly.  "I just meant, you know, will you be able to amuse yourself without driving Cragen out of his mind?"

"But that's how I amuse myself without you," Emma pouted.  "I love driving him insane.  I was thinking maybe a spa day at Elizabeth Arden.  You know, they can exfoliate his head or something." 

* * *

Olivia checked her packing list once more - a trick she'd picked up from Alex, she recalled.  Satisfied that she had everything she'd need for a week-long excursion to the District of Columbia, Olivia zipped up her little wheeled bag and set it by the front door.  She decided she'd better go one last time before setting out on the four-hour drive, and stepped into the bathroom.

Striding over to the computer, Olivia did one last check of her reservations on the Ritz-Carlton website before packing up her laptop.  She'd gotten the department to agree to pay her the daily compensation rate for job-related travel, and had used her personal slush fund to cover the cost of the Ritz's least-expensive suite.  She owed herself a treat, and a Jacuzzi tub and room service were it.

She struck out by seven - an ungodly hour for a Saturday, even according to her early-riser girlfriend.  But when she found herself merging onto the Beltway at ten-thirty, Olivia congratulated herself for good planning - and a little speeding.  She pulled into the parking lot of the Ritz and handed her keys happily to the valet, letting him know that she probably wouldn't need the car until the following Friday, so he could park it in an out-of-the-way corner.

Olivia stepped into the lobby of the hotel and covered her gasp of delight with a well-placed cough, another trick Alex had taught her.  She crossed the marble floor to the check-in desk and gave her name.

"Miss Benson," the young clerk said in soft confusion, "there appears to be a computer error.  I'm showing you as already having checked in," he informed the detective.

"That's impossible," Olivia replied, enunciating slowly for the clerk's benefit, "seeing as I just walked in."

"Yes, ma'am," he replied.  "But someone checked you in and paid for your room, all amenities to be billed to the credit card upon checkout - all by phone."  He looked up at Olivia with a bright 'thank you for staying at the Ritz' smile.  "It seems someone wanted to treat you to a complimentary room," the clerk said, handing her a card key.  "Enjoy your stay, and if there's anything we can do to help, please don't hesitate to ask."

Still confused, Olivia decided it was best not to look a gift horse in the mouth.  Peter was in jail, Mark was dead and she hadn't had any stalkers - lately - so odds were that the gesture was a benign one.  Trailing her suitcase, Olivia strode the elevators and rode up to her room, sliding the card into the lock.  As the light turned to a solid green, she pushed the door open.

_What on earth do you say in a moment like this?  _A simple hello would be mundane; jumping up and down and screaming would be a little over the top, not to mention totally not their style.  Instead, she remained perched on the bed, legs crossed, and cleared her throat silently.  The greeting was quiet, hoarse, and completely overwhelmed by the large smile on her face.  "Hi."

"Holy..." Olivia dropped her suitcase, sprinted across the room and lifted Alex into a tight hug.  "Oh, my God."

Alex buried her face in the crook of Olivia's neck, throwing her arms around the detective's neck, tears flowing instantly.  "Welcome to our nation's capital," she teased softly.

"Baby," Olivia murmured, squeezing Alex as tightly as she dared.  She leaned back for a moment, her eyes scouring the blonde from head to toe.  "You're okay?" she asked, concerned.

Alex nodded.  "I'm great, now."  She said nothing for a moment longer, drinking in her partner breathlessly.  She folded the brunette back into her arms, devouring her.  "I missed you so much." 

"Oh, God," Olivia repeated herself, unable to think for the longest time.  "Alexandra," she whispered, finally letting a few tears escape.

They stood in the embrace for a lifetime, until Alex leaned back.  "Good surprise?"

"Are you fucking kidding me?" Olivia grinned.  "How long can you stay?"

"Most of the conference.  I leave around midnight on Saturday.  It was my treat for being such a good little captive."  Alex grinned back, tangling her hands in Olivia's hair.  "I love you."

"I love you, too."  Their declarations of adoration, once few and far between, were now stolen whenever and wherever they could be.  "Alex..."  The name was reverent on Olivia's lips, delicate and hushed.  Her fingers tucked the shortest strands of Alex's hair behind her ears automatically, as she grinned perpetually.  "I can't believe it."

Alex's smile never wavered.  "Neither can I.  When Meredith told me - that's one of the agents on my detail - I knocked her right over when I hugged her.  I thought I would go nuts on the plane.  Not pretty." 

Olivia shook her head, tears running down alongside her smile.  "Alexandra," she murmured again, this time leaning in for a kiss that was six months overdue.

The kiss was tender and completely undemanding.  Alex's tears meshed with Olivia's as she cupped the detective's face, stroking her cheeks tenderly.  Their lips parted, but still hung within a millimeter of each other.  "I love you, Olivia," Alex whispered again.

"Not as much as I love you," Olivia teased in a hushed voice.  She kissed Alex again, slightly harder, as if to prove to herself that her lover really was there in the flesh, and she wasn't just dreaming again.

Alex wrapped her arms around Olivia's waist, holding the detective tightly against her.  They stood in the dim room, simply holding each other and kissing, reestablishing the connection between them.  It was clear to both women that the ties that bound them together had not diminished during their separation.  Finally, almost suffering from oxygen deprivation, Alex broke the embrace, kissing Olivia's forehead instead.  "I have something for you."

Forgetting for a moment that she had everything she wanted standing right in front of her, Olivia's eyes lit up.  "What is it?"

Alex smiled.  She moved to the closet, where she'd stashed her suitcase, and pulled out a black and white notebook.  "It's nothing spectacular," she warned, "but I've been writing you since I left.  I want you to have this, to remind you that I'm always thinking about you." 

Olivia's eyes filled with tears, and she shook her head.  "Alex, you've got to stop this.  I've cried more in the last half-hour than I have since you left."

Alex smiled, brushing Olivia's cheeks.  "I'm sorry, baby."  She cocked her head and quirked her mouth teasingly.  "Are you telling me you didn't cry at my funeral?  I'm hurt."

"You know I don't cry in public," Olivia began to defend herself, before she realized Alex was teasing.  "Bitch," she murmured, kissing the blonde quickly.  Her stomach rumbled loudly, and the detective laughed, something she hadn't done sincerely in a long time.  "Way to ruin the romantic reunion," she chided herself.

Alex grinned, resting her hand on the brunette's hip.  "Glad to see you haven't changed all that much."  She sat down on the bed, watching a stray shaft of light highlight Olivia's features.  "You want to order some lunch?" she asked, pulling Olivia closer to her, and resting her forehead lightly on Olivia's stomach.

"I wish I could take you out," Olivia sighed, "but I should just be glad you're here at all, huh?"

Alex smiled wistfully, looking back up at her girlfriend.  "I have to be really careful," she explained unnecessarily, "The feds are watching this place closely, but they asked that I limit my outdoor exposure as much as possible.  It's better than nothing, though, right?" 

"I figured."  Olivia grinned down at Alex, holding her close.  "It's better than a lot of nothings."  Her stomach rumbled again, and Olivia shrugged apologetically.  "Haven't eaten since about five.  What d'you want?"

Alex shrugged.  "Doesn't really matter to me.  There are a bunch of takeout places in Foggy Bottom and Georgetown, and there's a Legal Seafood up the street, if you're interested."  Alex grinned, knowing the responding loud rumbling in the detective's midsection would serve as her answer.

"Legal?  You've been promising me Legal Seafood ever since we first met.  'Bout time you came through," Olivia grinned.  "They deliver?"

"No, but they do takeout," Alex replied.  "They're at the intersection of 20th and K streets," she continued, bending at the waist and grabbing her laptop. "I can pull up the menu for you, if you like."

"No," Olivia said suddenly.  "I'm not leaving this room.  We can get room service."  She was disgusted by the clinginess she heard in her own voice, but after six months apart, no way would she waste a single minute with Alex.

Alex grinned, grabbing a handful of Olivia's shirt and pulling the detective's mouth to hers.  "Hang on, I have an idea."  She picked up the room phone and dialed a few numbers, waiting for it to connect.  "It's me.  I need something."  She waited and covered the receiver, looking at Olivia.  "The babysitters will go get Legal for us.  What do you want?" 

Grinning, Olivia shrugged.  "You're the expert."  She drank in the sight of Alex, taking charge as she did so well, and her grin widened.

Alex got back on the phone.  "Okay, we need two bowls of the New England clam chowder, a shrimp trio, and a surf and turf with the lobster.  She wants her steak medium rare.  And tell them we need a ton of rolls.  Oh, and I want mashed potatoes with my dinner.  And for dessert, we need a slice of black forest cake and a slice of cheesecake.  No topping.  And have them throw in a bottle of the house red."  Alex listened, and then laughed.  "Yes, I think that should suffice me.  Thanks."  She hung up the phone and grinned again at Olivia, not minding the fact that she must have looked like an idiot.  "Should be here soon." 

Olivia was grinning back, also like an idiot.  "We've been together far too long," she declared.

Alex shook her head.  "We've been apart far too long," she corrected, standing and hugging Olivia again.  "I don't even want to think about how hard it's going to be to leave you again." 

"Then don't."  _Olivia Benson, Queen of Denial_, she chided herself with a chuckle.  "Why don't I grab Emma and the three of us can run to Paris?"

Alex smiled.  "I'd love that," she replied.  "How is she, by the way?  Is she better than in December?"

"Worlds better," Olivia said, as they both settled on the bed.  "She still misses you, but she's gone back to work, and she's trying to...you know...do the whole 'normal' thing."

"Good," Alex replied, relieved.  "And Don?  The squad?"

Swallowing her distaste for the news she knew she had to share, Olivia shrugged slowly.  "Squad's good.  Cragen's...better now."

Alex ran a hand through her hair, exhaling deeply.  "How bad was he?"

"Started drinking again," Olivia informed her quietly, "but he's back in meetings, and fortunately, we managed to keep it quiet."

"Jesus," Alex breathed.  "Years of sobriety down the tubes.  Damn it, Don."  She shook her head a few times, then looked at Olivia. "I've made quite the mess, haven't I?" 

Olivia shook her head, slipping her fingers between Alex's.  "It's not your fault," she reprimanded her partner for feeling guilty.  "You're doing what you have to do, they'll all understand that."

Alex searched the brunette's eyes.  "Are you angry with me?"

"No," Olivia blinked in surprise.  "Why would I be?"

"For not backing down when you told me to.  For letting you know I was still alive.  I don't know if you understand the reasons why, Olivia."  Alex's eyes never wavered from her partner's.

Holding Alex's gaze, Olivia shook her head minutely again.  "I'm angry with Velez for being a sham of a human being and doing this to you.  I'm angry with God for letting it happen, but I'm not angry with **you**, honey."  The fierce brown of her eyes melted into hot chocolate as she told Alex, "And if you hadn't told me you were alive...I don't know."  She shook her head firmly, finally breaking their connection and staring at the floor as her throat closed.  "I'd be worse off than Emma and Cragen combined, that's for damn sure."

Alex wrapped her arms around Olivia again, cradling the brunette's head to her.  Kissing the top of her mahogany locks, Alex fought the tears as they threatened again.  "I'm okay, though.  I'm right here."

They held each other for a few minutes, until a light knock at the door interrupted them.  Alex placed another kiss on Olivia's forehead and moved to the door.  Confirming it was the other member of her detail, Matt, she opened the door swiftly, and he entered the room, carrying two large bags.

"Thanks," Alex said, taking the bags and placing them on the desk. 

"No problem," Matt replied, giving her a smile.  "You have everything else you need?"

Alex nodded.  "I think so.  I'll let you know if we decide to go out somewhere."

Matt smiled wider, with an air of knowing.  "Thanks for checking in."  He nodded to Olivia.  "Detective Benson." 

"Thank you, uh....sir," Olivia said with a polite smile.  It was disconcerting that he knew her name, and she didn't know his.

"See you later, Blondie," Matt said, checking the peephole discreetly and slipping out, shutting the door softly behind him.

Alex dug through the bags and started pulling out the takeout cartons.  She licked her finger as a drip of chowder fell out of the blue and white container.  "Can you call downstairs and see if they'll bring us some wine glasses, babe?"

Olivia called the front desk, and a few minutes later, a concierge was knocking on their door with the requested items.  "I love the Ritz," she commented to Alex, as she set the glasses down.

"I know," Alex replied, sitting down at the desk, their dinner spread before them.  She got up immediately thereafter and lowered the lights just slightly.  She sat back down and covered Olivia's hands with her own.  "You will love me even more after you taste this."

Chuckling, Olivia picked up a soup spoon and took her first sip of the clam chowder.  "I didn't think it was possible," she murmured a moment later, "but this is almost better than sex with you."

"Emphasis on the 'almost'," Alex teased, crumbling up some of the oyster crackers and stirring them into the soup.  She looked up at Olivia as she took a bite, reveling in the beauty of the woman across from her, and thankful to a God she forgot existed that they had this opportunity once again.  It was going to be devastating to have to leave her behind again, but she prayed their time together would suffice until her triumphant return.

Olivia peered at Alex over her spoon.  "What?"

Alex just shook her head, the lump in her throat blocking her voice.  She poured them both a glass of wine and raised her goblet.  "To us," she whispered, clinking the glasses together. 

"To us," Olivia echoed, watching Alex carefully.  "To more conjugal visits," she added, deadpan.

Alex burst out laughing, nearly spitting out the sip of wine she'd just had.  She shook her head at the brunette, wiping her mouth. "You're nuts, you know that?"

"Ehn.  You love me for it," the detective grinned.

Alex replied seriously, "Yes.  I do."  She held their gaze for another minute before returning to her soup.  "So tell me about work," she requested.  "I want to know all the gossip." 

"Gossip?" Olivia repeated thoughtfully.  "Not much to tell.  Kathy thought she might be pregnant a few months back.  You shoulda seen Elliot's face, that was funnier than all hell."

Alex laughed heartily.  "Oh, my god.  That's classic."  She buttered one of the rolls they'd ordered, and asked, "Any interesting cases?" 

Olivia regaled her with a long story about a rape victim who fought back, excising a chunk of the attacker's genitalia, ending with, "So, basically now, his cellmates have taken to calling him Bob - short for John Bobbitt."

"I have missed our dinner conversations so much," Alex laughed, finishing her wine and refilling her glass.  "I miss working.  Sitting and watching television all day lost its appeal on about the third day."

"You ought to take up writing," Olivia suggested, holding out her glass for a refill as well.  "You could submit under a pen name to the Times or the Post - you know, op-eds about new Supreme Court decisions."

"Hm."  Alex pondered her idea for a moment.  "That's a pretty good notion.  I'll talk to the detail about that, see if they can make that happen.  You know," she said, cutting her coconut baked shrimp, "being a prisoner isn't so bad.  I can ask them for pretty much whatever I want, and they'll try and make it happen.  The emotional desolation is just an added bonus." 

Olivia set her wineglass down and eyed Alex with a soft sigh.  "Allie..."

Alex shook her head.  "It's really not that bad, Liv.  I mean, I miss you terribly, and I miss Emma, too.  But I made my bed.  I have to lie in it now.  There are some days that it's just really hard."

"You didn't do this!" Olivia exclaimed in frustration.  "Velez did.  Why is it so hard for you to admit that you're getting screwed here?"

"I could have stepped away when everyone advised me to.  Like everyone before me had.  Yes, Velez is the reason we tried to go after Zapata.  But I had a job to do.  I had people to fight for.  I got knocked out, and had to retreat."  Alex took her girlfriend's hand in hers.  "Yes, I'm screwed in that I don't get to be with you.  But this is what I have to do to stay alive.  We'll still win the fight, Liv.  I have no doubt about that." 

"You had no reason to step away.  This is who you are," Olivia said proudly.  "Sure, it hurts Emma - and me," she admitted quietly, "but in the long run, you'd hate yourself if you hadn't tried everything you could to get justice for Livia."

"You're exactly right," Alex agreed.  "Everyone else had given up on finding justice for all those affected by Velez.  And we both know Livia wasn't the first, or the last.  That said, walking away from you that night was the single hardest thing I've ever had to do.  Watching your face as the door to the car opened, watching you tear up and ask me how long..."  Alex trailed off and shook her head.  "I told them to turn that car around three times."

"That's funny," Olivia smiled gently, reaching for Alex's hand, "I told Elliot to chase you."

"I'm glad you have him to talk to.  I didn't want you to have to carry this burden alone."

Nodding, Olivia stood and stepped away from the table, still holding Alex's hand.  "He's been amazing, even though he feels as guilty as I do about lying to Emma."  She tugged Alex toward the bed, aching for a snuggle.

The remnants of their dinner abandoned, Alexandra climbed into bed behind Olivia, wrapping her arms around the detective's waist.   She kissed the back of the brunette's neck, her eyes falling shut as her body slipped into true and utter relaxation and happiness for the first time in six months.

Olivia rolled over in Alex's embrace, coming face to face with the blond, a grin spreading across her features.  "The way I figure it, you owe me one hundred and eighty snuggles, missy.  Get crackin'."

Alex laughed, closing the distance between them and kissing her lightly.  "Tell you what," she whispered, running her hands through Olivia's short hair.  "I think both of us could use a bath and pajamas before we commence with the snuggling.  How does that sound?" 

"A bath?"  Olivia perked up.  "Only if I get to wash your back."

"Of course," Alex replied, sitting up and tugging on her girlfriend's hand.  She led Olivia into the bathroom and started running the warm water.  She lit some candles, a splurge item she'd picked up on her way into the city, and turned on the radio, preprogrammed to a classical station.  She turned to Olivia with a smile, sitting down on the side of the marble tub and testing the water as the tub filled.

Watching Alex perform the familiar ritual, Olivia was overcome by a wave of happiness.  She wrapped the blonde in an unexpected hug, clinging for all she was worth.

Alex grinned back, watching their reflection in the mirror.  "Come on, let's get ready," she whispered, pulling off her turtleneck.

Olivia began to undress slowly, suddenly shy.

Alex rose and helped Olivia draw her long sleeved t-shirt off.  They stood, bare stomach to bare stomach, as Alex took her partner's hand in hers.  She raised their linked fingers to her mouth and kissed Olivia's hand tenderly.  She moved her left hand up and cupped Olivia's cheek, leaning in and kissing the detective's mouth lightly.  "You're more beautiful than I remember," the blonde said softly.

Her throat tight, Olivia kissed Alex back with a fervor that revealed just how long she'd been waiting to hold her partner.  Her arms slid around Alex's waist, as the fire began to smolder in the depths of her stomach.  "I've missed you," she murmured over the rush of the bathwater.

Alex tilted her head and kissed down Olivia's neck and onto her bare collarbone.  When she reached the detective's bra strap, she slid it down easily, returning her blue eyes to Olivia's brown momentarily.  She kissed Olivia's shoulder while her other hand repeated the motion on the other strap.  As the elastic fell down to Olivia's bicep, Alex reached around and deftly unhooked the clasps holding the lingerie to the brunette's body.  She discarded the bra easily and lowered her mouth to Olivia's breasts, taking her nipple lightly between her lips.  One hand remained on the small of the detective's back, while the other splayed possessively on Olivia's stomach.

Groaning softly, Olivia tangled her fingers in Alex's hair, reveling in the blonde's touch.  "I think I forgot how amazing you are," she growled.

Alex released Olivia's breast and smiled. "I think maybe I should remind you."  She stood to her full height and unbuttoned Olivia's jeans.  "Bath's ready."

"So'm I," Olivia grinned, shedding her jeans and stepping into the steaming tub.  "Jesus!" she exclaimed.  "You still like boiling yourself, huh?"

Alex laughed, discarding her remaining clothing and climbing into the tub in front of Olivia.  "You kept telling me I was a clam in a past life."

Olivia shivered as Alex's movements shifted the cool air against her heated skin.  "I rephrase: you're a lobster."

Alex laughed, turning off the water.  "I'm sure I can find some ice cubes if you want to cool down the water."

"Why don't you just warm me up?" Olivia murmured hungrily.

Alex turned her head, capturing Olivia's mouth with hers.  She drew the detective's arms around her shoulders and leaned back, resting her head in the crook of Olivia's neck.  Her hands delved underneath the water after the embrace was secure, and started rubbing Olivia's thighs, the ministrations causing small ripples in the bath.  "How's that?"

Olivia sighed happily.  "Much better.  Little to the left," she teased, her hands massaging Alex's slick shoulders.

Alex chuckled lightly and settled under the pressure of Olivia's hands.  She made a contented noise at the back of her throat, and her eyes slipped shut.  She continued her light touch on Olivia's thighs, and her breathing evened.  "I have to be honest with you," she said softly after a moment, "I wasn't sure what it was going to be like seeing you again.  I wasn't sure how the time apart would have changed us." 

"Me, either," Olivia conceded.  "I mean, I figured by the time I saw you again, you'd have gained some perspective, and realize I wasn't all I seemed to be."

Alex laughed heartily this time.  "Please.  I figured you would have left my ass behind long ago in favor of someone a little more normal."

A light slap upside the head was Olivia's first response.  "I told Emma about a dozen times - most recently after she accused me of cheating on you - that after trying to find you for so long, I wasn't about to start over."

Alex turned and caught Olivia's gaze.  "She accused you of cheating?  And you're walking without a limp?"

"It was a minor misunderstanding," Olivia explained, winking at Alex.  "Casey took me out to dinner as a thank-you for a job well done, and Emma got the wrong impression.  She didn't have time to break my legs."

Alex crinkled her forehead, lacing her fingers with Olivia's and resting them on her chest.  "And pray tell, who is Casey?"

"Oh, damn."  Olivia shrugged slightly, embarrassed.  "I forgot.  She's your...uh...successor."

"Hm." Alex smiled to herself.  "And how is my successor?  I hope you aren't giving her too many problems." 

"Just the same kind of initiation we gave you," Olivia joked.  "Shaving cream and freezing her panties."

"I never did get over that trauma, you know," Alex teased back.  They fell back into a comfortable silence, drinking each other in.  "I hear through the grapevine that you're presenting at this lovely conference."  

"Shit," Olivia replied succinctly.  "I'm gonna have to leave tomorrow morning, just for a couple of hours," she hastened to add.

Alex laughed.  "Honey, I understand.  Really.  You came here for a conference, not to be surprised by your witness protection groupie girlfriend.  Don't feel guilty, okay?" 

Olivia shook her head, hugging Alex tighter.  "It's not guilt," she explained.  "It's just that I don't want to let you out of my sight any longer than absolutely necessary."

Alex kissed Olivia's damp wrist.  "I know, baby.  But maybe one of us should get out, get some fresh air.  I mean, it's not like we can see the monuments or the museums together."

"Bite me."

Alex giggled.  "Okay, but when you start crawling the walls from being in an enclosed space with me too long, don't say I didn't warn you." 

"Point taken," Olivia smiled, leaning forward to kiss Alex's neck.

Alex's eyes fluttered shut and she hummed deep in her throat.  "Nice to see you haven't lost your touch, Detective." 

"Nice to see you haven't changed erogenous zones," Olivia chuckled breathily against Alex's soft, creamy skin.

Alex smiled, letting Olivia's mouth linger on her neck for a moment longer.  "I feel like I have a million questions to ask you, but I don't have the words for them yet," she confided softly.  "I also feel like this is all just a dream, and I'll wake up back in the safehouse bedroom, without you all over again."

Squeezing Alex firmly, Olivia shook her head, although the blonde couldn't see it.  "I'm right here," she said comfortingly.  "Hey, are you pruning?"

"Totally."  Alex stood up and grabbed one of the oversized towels, wrapping herself in it before stepping out of the tub.  She snuffed out the few candles she'd lit and turned the lights up so they wouldn't trip and fall on the slick tile.  She handed the other one to Olivia, and watched as the lithe brunette stepped regally out of the tub, glistening in the overhead lights.  "Damn," she muttered, her eyes widening ever so slightly.

"What?"

Alex ducked her head, blushing.  "Nothing," she lied, wrapping her hair in another towel.  "You're just spectacular," she amended.  "I forgot how much I enjoy looking at you." 

Blushing too, Olivia grabbed a small towel and scrubbed her hair dry.  "You're so full of shit."

Alex flicked her backside with a hand towel.  "I am not."

Sidestepping the towel, Olivia mock-glared at Alex.  "You are too.  You're the cute one here."

"Four out of five lesbians prefer you to me.  The fifth one will cave if we liquor her up." 

Olivia let out a short, sincere laugh and shook her head.  "You're sick, you know that, Counselor?"

Alex dropped her towel and wrapped herself in the oversized cotton robe.  Then, she wrapped her arms around Olivia.  "Sick and twisted," she confirmed proudly.  She kissed Olivia on the mouth briefly and headed out of the bathroom.  "I'm going to clean up dinner," she said, "and check in with You Know Who."

Following Alex into the bedroom, Olivia donned her robe and added, "I'm gonna call Emma while you do that."  She grabbed her cell and headed back into the bathroom.

"Tell her I say..."  Alex trailed off, covering her heart with her hand as the pang of pain shot easily through it.  She dialed the concierge and requested the trash be removed as soon as possible, and then dialed the detail to let them know she was still in the same room as she was two hours ago.  It had taken a lot of negotiating and planning to get this tryst out of the planning stages and into actuality, and Alex had pages and pages of orders and protocol to follow to ensure her safety.  She was a different type of person in witness protection; other people had brand new lives started for them.  Given her notoriety, she couldn't just pop up in Helena or Tucson.  She had to stay completely underground and hidden--the slightest double-take by the wrong person could blow the entire situation.

Meredith and Matt had both asked her if she was sure she wanted to risk it.  Truth be told, there were nights that Alex reconsidered.  But she thought about the woman in the bathroom, and knew it was all worth it.

Olivia dialed the familiar number, a new lightness in her heart.  "Hey, Emmanem," she said, when the other woman picked up.  "Just checking in."

"Hey sweetie," Emma greeted warmly.  "You moon George yet?" 

"No, I have not bared my ass to the nation's most revered monument," Olivia cracked up.  "Manhattan still standing?"

"Uh, I think so.  Haven't checked lately, though."  Emma paused.  "Oh, my god, we've been eaten by a giant marshmallow man!  Who we gonna call?"

"Elliot. 555-6280," Olivia enunciated slowly.  "I'm not leaving the Ritz until the last possible second, even if you're being attacked by the Stay-Puft man."

"So you'd abandon me in favor of featherbeds and goose down pillows?" Emma pouted.  "I'm hurt."

"And a Jacuzzi tub, and room services, and down comforters and..." Olivia trailed off with a silent sigh.  "Anyway, I just wanted to make sure you were okay."

"I'm good," Emma replied softly.  "You sound great.  Are you watching porn again?"

"Yes.  Debbie Does Dallas, then she does me."

Emma laughed heartily.  "Well, have fun.  Talk to you tomorrow?"

"You bet.  Night, Em."  Olivia hung up with a sad smile, that broke into a grin as soon as she saw Alex's face again.

Alex had cleared their dinner with the help of the friendly Ritz staff, and was flipping through the channels, now clad in Olivia's NYPD t-shirt.  She saw a shadow enter the room and looked up, pushing her glasses further up her nose.  "She good?" 

"She's good."  Olivia was momentarily breathless at the sight of Alex in her shirt and the gold-rimmed glasses.  "You look incredible."

Alex chuckled, fingering her still wet, dark hair.  "Oh, yeah, I bet."

"You do," Olivia insisted, striding over and crouching beside Alex's chair.  "Delicious," she clarified, kissing the blonde's hand tenderly.

Alex cupped her hand around Olivia's cheek.  "You're a little biased, wouldn't you say?"

Olivia nodded vigorously.  "Definitely.  But just because I'm biased doesn't make it untrue."

"It's still nearly impossible to argue with you, you know that?"  Alex shook her head and chuckled, kissing the detective lightly.  "I was thinking about climbing into bed.  You care to join me?"

"No," Olivia teased, "I've got my other girlfriend hidden in the closet.  I should go give her some air."

Alex laughed and smacked Olivia's shoulder.  "Well, you go poke some holes in the closet door and let her breathe.  I'm going to go steal all your pillows."

"Dude, no!" Olivia grinned, following Alex from the small living area toward the bed.  "It's bad enough you sleep with ten pillows, at least give me my one."

Alex laughed again, pulling down the duvet cover and sliding across the soft sheets, turning on her side and watching Olivia climb in next to her.  "I think you may have to earn that one pillow," she teased, winking.

"Oh yeah?"  The detective quirked an eyebrow.  "How?"

Alex tapped her index finger against her chin thoughtfully.  "I think a few kisses and a lower back massage might just earn you your pillow, and your snuggle."

Olivia grinned broadly.  "Done."  As Alex rolled onto her stomach, Olivia began kneading the tension knots out of the soft skin, dotting the slight expanse of the blonde's back with six months' worth of stored up butterfly kisses.

Alex was surprised as her eyes welled with tears.  Her everyday life was surrounded by armed guards, motion detectors, alarm systems, guard dogs.  But she hadn't felt as safe in six months as she did in that moment, with Olivia's soft hands on her back, her caring touch seeping into her skin.  Alex shifted underneath her, and turned her head, capturing Olivia's gaze.  "Can I hold you?" she whispered, her voice escaping into the pillow and her folded arm.

"Of course, sweetheart."  Olivia's tongue lingered over the endearment, thrilled that she was finally able to speak them aloud.  "C'mere."  She scooted back onto her pillow and opened her arms to Alex without another word.

* * *

_October 31_

_Halloween--the day we can indulge our natural desire to be something, or someone different.  A day that invokes hysterical memories for me; remembering Emma at age 10 stealing my mother's favorite ball gown and about $50,000 worth of diamonds to be Miss America; Emma at age 14 when she went as leftovers by wrapping herself up in about four yards of tin foil; Emma at age 27 when she dressed herself up in gold lame and painted her body with gold paint, pretending to be an Emmy._

_This year, though, I have no desire to be anyone but the Alexandra you once knew.  I want to be home with you, in bed, watching the Discovery Channel or old movies, making you pop two different bags of popcorn because you love butter and I don't.  I didn't think I would be this upset about not seeing the colorful costumes, or hearing the high pitched demands of "Trick or Treat!"  There's no way we'll get any trick or treaters up here today, although we did have a freshman rush initiation at the beginning of the month.  Apparently this property was abandoned, and since we moved in, the local college kids think we're making meth or haunting the place or something.  I would have laughed about it, and tried to scare the crap out of them as they snuck up the front lawn, but when we had to go into lockdown and Meredith threw me to the floor in precaution, it hit me for the first time just how dangerous this mess is._

_So as the large orange moon rises in the night sky, I'll think about you, as I always do, and wonder just what mess Emma's gotten into you this year.  Will she make you be a pussycat doll?  Will you be Antony and she'll be Cleopatra?  Or will she steal your uniform again, stick a broken broomstick down the back of her pants, and pretend to be Don?  God only knows.  I hope you have fun, though.  I hope you laugh and pretend to be carefree tonight.  I'll be the little ghost, hovering around you, watching wistfully._

_I love you._

Olivia read the words three times, then a fourth.  She was literally taken aback that Alexandra had thought about her so much while she was away.  Olivia didn't consider herself all that memorable, and was certain, somewhere deep inside, that Alex was enjoying the time away, despite her reassurances to the contrary.

She remembered Halloween night.  Emma had spent the 29th and 30th baking her heart out in an effort not to cry, and as a result, had dozens - maybe hundreds - of home-baked goodies for the four trick-or-treaters that stopped by.  One little girl's mother hovered nearby and when she saw the individually hand-wrapped brownies and candy apples, snatched her daughter's hand away from the tray.  'You don't know what's in those,' she'd reprimanded the girl, dragging her forcibly from the door with a withering glare her only thanks for Emma's hard work.  It had shattered the fragile blonde, who went on a tirade against a society in which it's not safe for a child to take a treat from a neighbor and innocent women and children can be shot to death for walking down the street.

Olivia flipped ahead to Christmas, an early contender for her favorite entry so far, because of the last line.  _I'll be home for Christmas, if only in my dreams_.

Alex rolled over in the bed, blinking her eyes open.  There was a little bit of light streaming in through the windows, but she could tell immediately it was only the glow of the streetlights.  She stretched slightly, and looked up at Olivia, who held her journal in her hands.  Alex smiled sleepily, snuggling against the pillows.  "You enjoying the rambling?"

"It's beautiful," Olivia said quietly.  "I just can't believe you wasted so much time thinking about me."

Alex rustled against the sheets and pillows as she sat up.  "What?"

"I mean, there are a thousand things you could've been thinking about, and you spent all this time on me?" Olivia said disbelievingly, hefting the journal in her hand.

"Well, yeah," Alex replied, somewhat disbelievingly. She shrugged, almost shy as Olivia's eyes bored into her.  "I realized, the more I was away from you, just how integral you are to my life.  You and I have had our ups and downs, but," Alex raised her eyes to Olivia's, the blue sparkling in their newfound strength, "I think this might be it for me.  I've never felt this way about anybody before."

Floored, Olivia couldn't speak for a long moment.  "It?" she replied softly.

Alex chuckled, embarrassed.  "Yeah.  And from the deer caught in headlights look on your face, I'd guess you hadn't thought about it."  She shook her head. "Really, never mind.  It's not a big deal."

"No, I..."  The detective trailed off with a helpless shrug.  "I just didn't think you felt that way.  About me. You know..."

Alex covered Olivia's hand lightly.  "Well, I do.  After everything we've been through, did you really think I could feel anything else?"

"I ... guess I just didn't think about it."  Olivia slid her hand from under Alex's and climbed out of bed, pacing the room slowly.

"Hey, Liv, I'm sorry.  I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable."  Alex sat up fully, watching her tread the carpet.  "I can take the journal back with me if you want.  We can drop this whole conversation, no questions asked."

Olivia whirled to face Alex and shook her head, her eyes revealing the spinning wheels in her mind.  "No," she replied immediately.  "It's great.  I just can't believe it," she added, as if that explained it all.

Alex motioned to the other room.  "You need some time to process?  I can go swim in the bathtub or something."

"No.  Yeah.  No," Olivia sighed.  "Why?" she asked finally.

"Because you're you," Alex replied simply.  "Because you're the only person who matters. I care about what you think, in general and about me.  Because you're my equal, my compliment.  We just fit, Olivia.  We work."

"Yeah."  Olivia found her breath and inhaled deeply.  "Even after everything, you still want me?"

"More than anything."  Alex smiled gently.  "I love you.  And I want to be with you, if you want **me**."

Raising an eyebrow, Olivia shook her head, allowing enough of a pause for Alex to begin to worry that it might be her silent answer.  "Why wouldn't I?" she asked with a gentle smile.

"Well, it would mean you really wouldn't be able to get away from Emma."  Alex shuddered dramatically.  "That's a punishment no one should have to endure."

"Alexandra, stop being facetious," she commanded in her best 'detective voice'.

Alex laughed, leaning against the headboard, folding her fingers over her abdomen.  "This is why I love you.  The fedlets laugh insincerely.  I haven't had a swift kick in the ass in six months."

"Consider yourself kicked," Olivia said with a small smile.  "So, what's this all about?" she asked herself aloud.

"Which part?"

"This," Olivia gestured toward Alex.  "Are we...committing?"

Alex's face remained neutral.  "What do you want to do?"

"What do you want to do?"  Olivia parroted the question back to her, wondering suddenly why they were discussing such serious topics at two in the morning.

Alex sighed, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear.  "Well, one could argue that there isn't much to do.  At the end of the week, I go back into hiding, and you go back to New York.  We really don't have to think about it until I return, which could be a long time from now."

Olivia nodded, replying casually, "But maybe it'd be something to hold while we're apart."  She thought back to Emma's pleading request, that she needed something to hang on to, and felt an ache within her chest that she hadn't realized had become ever-present.  Olivia needed some sliver of hope.

Alex's eyes softened.  "You can always hold on to me, Olivia.  I promise."

Grinning briefly, Olivia chuckled.  "You're so cheesy," she teased, striding over and climbing into bed.

Alex smacked Olivia's arms.  "Shut up.  It's late, and I used all my best lines already."

"So..." Olivia drawled.  "You're my girl, huh?"

Alex smiled, turning back on her side as Olivia slid across the sheets.  "Looks that way," she smiled, resting a light hand on the detective's hip. "You're really okay with that?"

Wrapping her arm around Alex's waist, Olivia pulled her closer, burying her nose in the scent that was uniquely Alexandra.  "I'm more than okay with it," the detective grinned.

"Good."  Alex kissed Olivia's collarbone.  "You had me worried for a minute."

"Sorry."  Olivia snuggled further into Alex and sighed happily.  "I love when you do that," she murmured against the blonde's skin.

Alex stroked Olivia's hair, resting her lips on the brunette's shoulder.  "I forgot how good it felt to hold you."

"I forgot how good it felt to be held," Olivia countered, letting herself linger in the safety of Alex's arms.

Alex moved her hand down to right below Olivia's neck, where her tank top bared her smooth skin.  She leaned back and watched as the brunette's eyes fluttered into sleep.  She was filled with a contentment she'd missed in her six months away.  The blonde cupped the detective's cheek and stroked it slowly, memorizing the feel of Olivia underneath her fingertips.

Olivia shivered and turned away from Alex's fluttering touch reflexively.  Curling onto her side, she half-awoke, reaching back to draw Alex's arm over her waist.

Alex let Olivia settle in, and as the brunette's breathing evened, she allowed her own eyes to finally flutter closed.  It would be the first time in six months she slept through the night.

* * *

Alex stretched and yawned as she had done each morning since her arrival in DC.  She turned over, smiling as her morning cup of coffee sat, still steaming, on the bedside table.  She closed her eyes again and took a deep breath, letting the morning sunshine drift over her before the sense of dread settled in her limbs.  It was Saturday morning, her last day with her beloved.

They had spent most of the week in the confines of the room, talking, laughing, blatantly staring at each other in a frenzied effort to memorize every line, every crinkle of the nose, every cadence of the other's voice.    They had made love only a few times, choosing instead to enjoy their sleepless nights relearning and relaxing.  

Alex sat up, clad in Olivia's NYPD t-shirt, something she'd claimed as her own since their first night, and fumbled for her glasses.  "Liv?" she called, reaching for her coffee.

Olivia dashed into the bedroom, one hand covering the mouthpiece on her cell phone, the other gesticulating wildly for Alex to stop speaking.  "Yeah, Em, just wanted to see if you needed anything on my way back in.  No?  Okay, see you tomorrow morning."  She hung up, her eyes wide.  "If anyone asks, you've changed your name to Katie Couric."

Alex grimaced.  "Shit.  I'm sorry."

"It's okay.  So," Olivia said, settling next to Alex's legs and patting them gently through the comforter, "where should we order from today?" she teased the blonde.  Their six days together had revolved around mealtimes - experimenting with the new and varied cuisine that the metro DC area offered.

Alex quirked her mouth in thought.  "Is Sushi To Go open yet?" she asked teasingly.  "We could order a little breakfast first, then do that for lunch," she amended.

"They have about ten dozen different restaurants within walking distance of the hotel, and you want sushi **again**?" Olivia grinned.  "No wonder you wanna stick with me.  You're afraid of change."

Alex laughed.  "I like what I like.  If sushi's out, what do you want?"

"Sushi's fine," the detective chuckled.  "Y'always get what you want anyway," she mock-grumbled.  "How 'bout the Guards take-out for breakfast?"  Her eyes lit up.  They'd tried the Guards omelets and pancakes on Tuesday, and Olivia had wondered aloud if the restaurant would mind very much if she kidnapped their chef and took him back to New York.

"Mmm," Alex agreed, kissing Olivia easily.  "Why don't you order while I shower?" she asked, nibbling on the brunette's lower lip lightly.

"How 'bout I order, then we shower together?" Olivia suggested quickly, suddenly eager to memorize Alex in all her aspects.

Alex smiled. "Make the phone call."

Dialing quickly, Olivia ordered enough food to hold them until Labor Day, then followed Alex into the bathroom like a puppy on a string.

* * *

An hour later, they were dried off and sitting at their "kitchen" table, omelets and toast spread out in front of them.  They divvied up the Post, Alex reading the World section while Olivia stole the Nation and Metro sections.  The blonde looked up and willed herself to remember this moment; it was quickly becoming clear just how emotional and difficult leaving was going to be.

Forcing her eyes to remain on the page, Olivia murmured something about lost opportunities under her breath, flipping to a new page.

Alex speared a piece of Olivia's crab and salmon omelet and easily slid it between her teeth.  "I may have to have the new detail bring me some of that when they come up in May," she raved, taking another sip of her coffee.

Resisting the urge to ask, 'Up where?' Olivia nodded with a small smile.

Alex smiled back.  "Thank you for not asking," she said after a moment, slathering strawberry jam on her triangle of toast. 

"Why?"  They had never had to enunciate the subject of their conversations - it was implicit, understood.  The night Alex had left, Olivia recalled, so much had gone unspoken between them, but their meanings were clear.  _"I love you.  I'll be back."  "And I'll be waiting."_

"Because it would have been too difficult for me not to tell you," the blonde replied.  "I want you with me so badly, I want you to know where I am."  She shook her head.  "I'd risk it all over again, just to have the peace of mind knowing you had a concrete place in mind when you thought of me."

"I do," Olivia said, meeting Alex's eyes with a smile.  "A villa in the south of France."

"France, huh?"  Alex sat back in her chair.  "Me on the nude beaches?"

"Without me? You'd better not," Olivia growled playfully.

Alex laughed heartily.  "I'll have my butler, Jean Luc, take photos for you, okay?" 

Grinning, Olivia shook her head, deciding that would be the perfect time to make her request.  "Hey, Alex, I hope you don't mind, but there's an errand I've gotta run.  I shouldn't be gone more than an hour."

Alex looked at her curiously, but shrugged.  "Have fun," she replied simply, knowing that even the patented batting of her eyelashes wouldn't deter the determined look on her partner's face.  "I'll finish packing." 

"Okay."  Olivia stood, and brushed a kiss across Alex's lips, grateful once more to have the opportunity to do it, even if it had only been for a few days.  She returned, as promised, a little more than an hour later.  "Alex?" she called.

Alex waited until she heard the door shut to emerge from the other room.  "Hey," she greeted.  "How were your errands?" 

"Not bad.  The mall was really crowded, though."  She set the small package on top of Alex's neatly-packed suitcase.  "Something for the drive back," she explained.

Alex fingered the box, looking confused.  "What is it?" 

"If I told you, it wouldn't be a surprise," Olivia said patiently.  "Besides, I know you, you'll have it open ten seconds after they close the car door.  You can last a few hours until then."

"You tease me," Alex challenged, but smiled nonetheless.  "Thank you, baby."

Blushing at the 'baby', Olivia shrugged.  "I tease you because I love you.  Now...you want to watch a movie or..."  She brandished a Scrabble box from the bag she was carrying.  "Scrabble?"

Alex laughed and clapped her hands at the sight of her favorite board game. "I'm gonna kick your ass, Benson.  Get ready."

"Can you spell 'defeat', Miss Cabot?" Olivia teased back.  "You are m-i-n-e."

They settled in to a competitive but friendly game.  The scores were just about tied, and the tiles were fewer, when Alex felt defeat indeed settling in.  She bent her fingers into a fist and rested them against her mouth in a pensive gesture before inspiration struck.  "Nebbish," she announced, placing her tiles on the board.  "Double letter, double word."  She sat back with a grin.  "Winner, and still champion." 

Tossing her remaining tiles onto the board, Olivia just grinned.  "Nice work.  Must be all those hours spent poring over law books instead of out dancing the night away."

Alex swept the tiles back into the plastic bag.  "How do you know I'm not tearing up the dance floor in Nice?  Maybe I convinced the fibbies to bring my leather pants to me, and I go carousing, picking up all sorts of women."

"Maybe," Olivia theorized, "you're just talking out your ass.  You never went 'carousing' even when you weren't underground."

Alex smiled, pulling her hair into a ponytail.  "Another game?"

"Sushi and a rematch," Olivia agreed.

* * *

The afternoon passed quickly, as happiness is wont to do, and before the women knew it, the sun was sinking behind the horizon, and then darkness overtook DC.  Alex was in the bathroom, "freshening up", as she so delicately put it, and Olivia stood staring out at sparkling lights of the city.  More than half of her was depressed at the thought of Alex leaving, of course, but there was a part of her that was terrified that the longer Alex stay 'aboveground', the more danger she'd be in; a tiny part of Olivia was anxious for her partner to return to the safety and anonymity of her temporary hidden life.

Alex stood in the bathroom, her hair in a tight bun, clad in black pants and a black t-shirt.  She put the rest of her toiletries away in their Ziploc compartments and looked at herself in the mirror.  The ache that had defined her separation from Olivia settled back into her chest, and the normally unemotional blonde found herself completely consumed by sadness and the tears that accompanied it.  She blinked her eyes rapidly, and tapped her cheeks in an effort to calm herself down.  

The cell phone that rested on the vanity buzzed, and she picked it up, seeing Meredith's cell phone number appear on the caller ID.  "Yes, I'm ready," Alex replied succinctly, and disconnected.  She put her toiletries back in the bag and pulled on the long brown wig.  She put the green color contacts in and opened the bathroom door.  Turning off the light, she rolled her suitcase into the outer room.  "Meredith just called," she said, "they're coming to get me now."

Turning, Olivia could only gape at the transformation.  When the detective had arrived, Alex had already removed her disguise, so this was the first time Olivia had seen it.  "God, you look like a whole other person."  She caught the shine of tears in Alex's eyes and stepped forward with a firm set to her mouth.  "Please don't," Olivia begged, her tone at odds with her expression.  "Don't cry."

Alex chuckled as the tears escaped, despite Olivia's warning.  "Good Lord, I don't want to go."

"I don't want you to go," Olivia agreed softly, reaching out to brush the tears off Alex's cheeks.  "But we both know you've got to."  She wanted to cry as much as Alex did, but Olivia knew that once she started, there'd be no going back for either of them.  She had to be the strong one.

Alex nodded, covering the detective's hand with hers, her eyes slipping shut at the contact.  "This week has meant more to me than anything else in my life," she said, opening her eyes and kissing Olivia's palm.  "I love you." 

"I love you, too."  Olivia was comforted by the thought of her small gift, tucked in the front pocket of Alex's suitcase.  That would certainly cheer her up, if only a little.

There was a light knock at the door, and Alex ignored it momentarily, kissing Olivia gently.  The knock repeated and Alex sighed, dropping her hand to the detective's hip.  "I guess that's my cue."

"Guess so."  Olivia stepped back slightly, memorizing Alex's face.  "Have a good trip."  She worried that she was coming across as indifferent, but hoped Alex would understand the difference between uncaring and stoic.

"I'll send you a postcard," Alex replied with a gentle smile.  She rolled her suitcase to the door, checking the peephole to confirm her detail's presence.  As her hand lingered on the handle, she turned and looked at Olivia one last time.  "I'll see you soon."

"Definitely."  Olivia smiled genuinely, her eyes filling with tears she could no longer hold back.  "I love you, Alexandra."

Alex nodded, her expression almost identical to the night she left.  Finally, she sniffled and opened the door.  Matt and Meredith immediately whisked her away, leaving the heavy hotel room door slamming behind her.

As the door shut behind Alex, Olivia sank to the carpet and tried to remember how to breathe.  She took air in gasping, gulping breaths, forcing herself to repeat mentally that Alex was fine, Alex was alive, and that was all that mattered.  But it wasn't.  Alex wasn't with her.  That mattered a hell of a lot.

The agents escorted Alex through the service entrance, and ushered her into a waiting Tahoe.  The caravan of federal cars turned left onto M Street and sped through Georgetown, turning onto the Key Bridge and heading through Rosslyn.  As they hooked up with the southbound George Washington Parkway, Alex unzipped her bag and pulled out Olivia's present.  She unwrapped the first part, a tiny model of the Washington Monument, and laughed tearily at Olivia's handwritten note - "When you think of the Giant Penis, think of me."  The second, larger present was the most exquisite leather-bound journal Alex had ever seen.  The pages were lightly yellowed parchment paper, and there was a thin leather strap holding the two covers shut.  Alex breathed in its beauty, drinking in the feel and the smell of the small book.  She unlaced the strap and the first page fell open.  

She recognized Olivia's handwriting immediately, and the tears that had been at the back of her throat since Meredith's final call spilled out as she read the words.

_I'm not good with written words, so I'll make this short.  I love you more than I've ever loved anyone.  I hesitated when you mentioned commitment, not because I don't want to give myself to you, but because I don't think I deserve for you to give yourself to me._

_I can't tell you how much having your journal means to me.  Being apart means that all we have are our thoughts, and reading your thoughts about me - about us - makes this just a little easier._

_Use this journal in good health, and give it back to me, (filled with your rantings, musings and ridiculous observations about life, love and the Red Sox) the next time we meet...when I pick you up in the middle of JFK and crush you in a hug you'll never forget, because you've come back to me._

_All my love (and the anklebiter's too),_

_O_

THE END 


	17. Asylum

Olivia had read Alex's journal at least a thousand times, by her count, over the month that had passed since their reunion in D.C.  What she kept coming back to was the entry in which Alex had given a hopeful date that they might resume e-mail contact - her birthday.  Olivia had begun counting the days, then minutes until Alexandra's birthday, hoping somehow that day would have a magical effect and allow the blonde to contact her, if not come home.

"Knock, knock," Emma called, pushing the door to Olivia's apartment open.  "Hallo lady," she entered, slipping her shoes off and putting her saddle bag down.  Hearing no immediate reply, Emma called out again.  "Where for art thou, Sparky?" 

Olivia was at her computer, willing her e-mail inbox to ding.  "Hey, babe, I'm in here."

Emma turned the corner in the small apartment, coming to a stop behind Olivia.  She wrapped her arms around the detective's shoulders and kissed the brunette's cheek.  "You looking at porn again?  Shame on you."

"It's not porn if it's pictures of someone I know, is it?" Olivia teased, leaning back to kiss Emma soundly on the cheek.  "It's dirty pictures of you....gardening."

Emma laughed heartily, squeezing Olivia in their awkward hug.  "I brought stuff for manicotti.  Sound okay?" she asked, straightening and heading back into the kitchen.

"Sounds fantastic.  Hey, Em," Olivia added, a little more quietly, "you know what today is."  It was less a question than a statement.

Emma smiled, lifting the ricotta and mozzarella out of her bag, and pulling one of Olivia's mixing bowls from the cabinets.  "Yeah.  I went to the cemetery this morning, and found myself at Mass, of all places."  She laughed.  "Me, in church.  I swear I heard God's chin drop.  That or the priest dropped his Bible when I gave confession.  Either way, there was a loud thud."

"You're goin' straight to hell," Olivia teased.  "You killed a priest with your shocking confession."

Emma laughed again, setting the manicotti shells aside for the moment.  She opened Olivia's fridge and pulled out the fixings for a salad.  "I sat by her plot today, at the fountain that's right next to it.  Just stared.  And you know what?"  Emma shook her head. "I didn't feel anything.  No sadness, no despair.  I just...was.  I know there will always be a huge hole in my heart because she's not here.  But I don't know, maybe I've finally got a Band-Aid over it.  It's still tender, but it's not killing me anymore."  She started slicing a cucumber, watching Olivia as she still sat at the computer.  "Does that make sense?"

"Makes perfect sense," Olivia replied, turning her attention away from the computer and toward Emma.  "She's a part of you, always will be.  But that grief, little by little, is going to lessen until it's the smallest part of what you feel for her."

Emma smiled again, and was silent as she finished making the salad.  As she started making the manicotti filling, she asked, "What did you do today?"

Olivia shook her head, demurring.  "It's gonna sound crazy."

Emma walked around the counter, wiping her hands on a dish towel.  She threw it over her shoulder and started kneading Olivia's shoulders lightly.  "Honey, who are you talking to here?"

"Oh, right, the Queen of Crazy," Olivia grinned, pulling away.  "I sat outside the DA's office for like an hour, just staring at the building, then I went to the Chinese restaurant where we had our ... well, I guess it was kind of a first date.  While you were missing," she explained.  "And I went by her old apartment building."

"Why is that crazy?" Emma queried, returning to their dinner.  "Sounds like you were just remembering her in the places most integral to her life." 

_Because she's not dead_.  Olivia just shrugged, unable to come up with an answer that fit.

"I had lunch with Don today," Emma said after Olivia didn't speak.  "He said the meetings were going really well.  Is he better at work?" 

"Worlds better," Olivia said with a genuine smile.  "Everyone sees a difference.  We were really scared there for a while."

"Good.  You know I was terrified - he's never shut me out like that before," Emma replied.  "Hey, garlic bread or crescent rolls?"

"Crescent rolls.  Alex's ... death," Olivia paused for the barest of seconds, "really messed him up."

Emma nodded, unwrapping the dough and placing the small triangles on a baking sheet.  "I think, out of all of us, he was the most shocked.  He's never been confronted with something that personal before - and he gets wiped out by emotions so easily that I think it totally blindsided him."  She finished mixing the manicotti filling and started scooping it into the shells.  "Liv?"

"Em?"

Emma cleared her throat.  "I just...I wanted to say thank you for everything.  And also apologize for being so insanely sensitive and emotional during the last six months.  I know I'm allowed to grieve," she continued quickly as she saw Olivia's lecture face pop up, "but you really went above and beyond.  You put my grief above yours.  At the beginning, I really needed that.  So thanks." 

Setting aside the lecture, Olivia just blushed and nodded.  "You're welcome."  A stab of guilt shot through her, despite her best efforts.  "Emma, there's so much I wish I could explain to you," she added, softly and out of the blue.  "So many things I wish I could tell you."

Emma cocked her head, eyes narrowing in confusion.  "Liv?  What is it?"

Olivia dismissed her ramblings with a tilt of her head.  "Nothing," she lied.  "Just me being weird."

Emma pursed her lips and shrugged, knowing Olivia wouldn't open up if pushed.  "You want wine or something else with dinner?" she asked, deftly changing the subject.

"Wine, please."

"'Kay."  Emma checked on the manicotti, which was now bubbling happily in a nice red sauce in the oven.  Emma poured them both a glass of red wine, and brought Olivia her glass.  Motioning to the computer screen, Emma asked, "You have stuff to do?  I can amuse myself elsewhere if you need some time."

"Nope, just waiting on an e-mail," she replied truthfully.

Emma sat on the couch, crossing her long legs at the ankle.  "Dinner should be ready in about twenty," she said, "'Give me the heads up in ten if you would so I can put the rolls in."

"Sure thing."  Olivia waited ten minutes and called out to Emma as she snapped the laptop closed in disappointment.

Emma moved easily in the kitchen, slim hips swinging in time to the music she'd flicked on while cleaning up her mess.  "Hey, will you come in here and set the table for me?" she called, putting together a fresh vinaigrette for their salad.

Complying, Olivia set the table quickly and silently; the guilt settling in on her was stifling.

Emma pulled out the manicotti and the crescent rolls, carrying the dishes and setting them on the hot plates next to the kitchen table.  She handed Olivia the basket of bread and scooped the detective two manicotti.  "Salad?" she asked softly, wondering why the brunette was unusually quiet.  She could understand part of it, given the fact that it was Alexandra's birthday, but Emma got the distinct impression Olivia was holding something from her.

"Yeah, please."

Emma passed her the salad bowl without further comment and started eating her own dinner.  She took about two bites before she let go of her fork, and it clattered against the plate.  "All right," she demanded, "out with it.  What's up?"

Olivia shrugged, eyeing her manicotti.  "Nothing," she denied.  "Just a bad day."

Emma shook her head.  "You've been like this since you returned from DC.  Did something happen while you were down there?"

"Nope."

"Did I do something?  Say something wrong?"

"No, honey, no," Olivia rushed to assure Emma.  "It's not you, it's just...life stuff.  Work.  You know."

"Okay," Emma replied, not sounding convinced at all.  "You know you can tell me anything, right?  You know I'm here for you, no matter what."

"I know, babe."  Olivia smiled thinly.

"Fine," Emma muttered, returning her attentions to the dinner in front of her.  She stood up quickly, sending her chair skittering a few inches across the wooden floor.  She strode into the kitchen, sighing as she picked up the wine bottle, her fingers clenching around the neck.

Olivia sighed silently.  Seeing Alex had made keeping her secret that much harder, and she was finding it extremely difficult to look Emma in the eye.

Emma took a few deep breaths and returned to the table, refilling their wine glasses.  "I got asked out today," she said randomly, buttering another crescent roll.

"Oh, yeah?" Olivia didn't need to feign her interest.  "Who is it?"

A shy look crossed the blonde's face.  "You have to promise not to laugh." 

Olivia crossed her heart. "Promise."

"You know Amy?  From the restaurant?" 

"The waitress?" Olivia asked.

"Yeah.  The redhead."

"The cute one," Olivia grinned.  "She asked you out?"

Emma nodded.  "Yeah.  I don't know, though.  It ended so badly with Shelby..."  Emma shook her head now.  "I mean, she and I have been friends for ages.  To change that now could do more harm than good."

"Or it could end up being something incredible," Olivia argued.  "Look at me and Alex."

"Yeah, but you knew you had a predilection for relationships with women.  I don't have a history or an understanding to fall back on. I mean, seriously, I've found one woman attractive in my entire life.  And she's in love with my sister."  Emma winked as she took another sip of her wine.

"I had one crush before Alex," Olivia reminded Emma with a quick shake of her head.  "Melissa.  I took a leap of faith."

Emma shrugged.  "Maybe baby steps," she amended.  "She is a cutie."

Nodding enthusiastically, Olivia agreed.  "She is.  And you guys've been friends forever, right?"

"Yeah.  We were roommates freshman year of college, took classes together.  We were joined at the hip until graduation.  She went to California for grad school, and I married Mark.  But we're still close, got closer when she came back and he died."

"So go for it," Olivia decided simply.

Emma laughed.  "You just want me out of your hair." 

"That, too."

Emma sat back and took another sip of wine.  "I'm very good," she proclaimed with a grin.  It still bothered her just how quiet and removed Olivia was, but she had learned one thing: never press Olivia Benson to open up when she's not ready.  Emma missed the close camaraderie the two of them had shared after Alex's trip to Boston and during the civil trial, but she wondered why she was so affected by it, why it was so frustrating.

Olivia pushed her plate away and inquired, "So where're you gonna go?"

Emma shrugged. "No idea.  Suggestions?" 

"Me? I haven't been on a date in years," the detective chuckled.

"Well, what did you and Allie do?  I mean, you two had a history; so do we.  I have nothing to impress her with," Emma joked.

"Well..." Olivia paused thoughtfully.  "We talked, a lot.  Mostly about work, things we had in common," the detective continued.  "Took a lot of chances," she recalled, "tried new foods, dance clubs, but mostly, we snuggled and talked."

Emma nodded.  "I remember she was so secretive about her time with you.  It was just about you two.  I tried so damn hard to get tidbits, but she was bullheaded.  I was not going to interfere with the progression of your relationship, come hell or high water - even though I was the one who brought you together."

"You brought us together?" Olivia teased.  "No way.  I thought that was Fate screaming at Alex not to leave after she kissed me that first time."

Emma looked at her primly.  "That was me, screaming up in our hotel room.  Fate tends to sound a lot like me, Olivia.  Besides, it was me who convinced you to come to my Christmas party, it was me who made you come to my wedding so you two could patch up, it was me who played that song as I left on my ill-fated honeymoon to get you two in the bow-chick-a-bow-wow mood...Jesus," she said, fingering her wineglass, "I should have gotten some kind of commission!"

"You did," Olivia grinned.  "Alex bought you that diamond necklace and threw you a party at the Russian Tea Room for God's sake.  And I can't even count the number of dinners and movies and things.  I returned the favor, trust me."

Emma chuckled.  "Okay, okay, okay.  I stand corrected."  A smile crossed her face.  "It kind of sickens me how in love she was with you.  It wasn't healthy."

"Yeah, we're both pretty twisted."  Olivia paused.  "How in love was she?"

"I think you were the first person who got her to act like a seventh-grader.  She giggled, she doodled on her yellow pads, she would grin into the phone anytime you called.  It was sickening."

"Oh, so basically, everything I did."

Emma laughed.  "So, so wrong, dude.  Two of the most brilliant women ever to roam the earth, sitting and giggling, arguing about who should hang up first.  Good lord."

"We never argued over who should hang up first.  It was always up to me," Olivia deadpanned.

Emma shook her head.  "Why did she adore you again?"

Olivia grinned broadly, the memories of Alex's hands on her face warming her heart.  "Because I'm a smartass."

Emma snapped her fingers.  "Right.  And she had that secret drug problem, which didn't hurt your case any."

"The only drug Alexandra needed was **me**."

"Should I start calling you Viagra now?"

Olivia rolled her eyes with a grin.

Emma stretched and sighed.  "I should probably get going," she said, arching her back.  "I have to be at Gables early tomorrow." 

"Okay."  Olivia stood and began clearing the dinner dishes.

They cleaned up the kitchen, Emma putting the leftovers in Olivia's prized Tupperware, with strict orders for the detective to eat it for lunch instead of the sandwiches out of the vending machine.  Finally, Emma pulled on her leather jacket and pulled her saddle bag over her head, gathering up the other canvas bag she'd brought the food in.  "I'll see you later, babe."

"But I like moldy tuna salad," Olivia was protesting as Emma slipped out the door.  "Sleep tight.  And lock your doors!" she called.

* * *

Olivia settled in for a relaxing evening, and went to bed relatively early.  When the phone rang at half past midnight, she knocked it off the nightstand by accident. "Yeah?" she barked when she finally retrieved the handset, sending the person on the other end of the line into giggles.

"Is that how you greet a person on her birthday?" 

"Alexandra!" Olivia practically screamed in delight.  "Sweet Jesus, baby."  Her eyes watered.  "How are you?"

"Good Lord, don't wake the entire neighborhood," Alex chastised.  "I'm wonderful," she said.  "I'm on vacation.  Finally got my villa."

Olivia's grin widened as she struggled to sit upright in bed.  "No kidding?  Happy birthday, sweetheart."

"Thank you, darling.  I'm sorry I called so late, but we actually just got in."  Alex stepped out on to the balcony, where the early morning breeze fluttered over her, brushing her hair away from her face.  "I miss you." 

"I miss you too," Olivia said, swiping at a stray tear.  "So you're in your villa, huh?  Got room for me and the kid?"

Alex laughed.  "With all the security, it might be a tight fit.  Definitely got room for you in my bed, though," she teased.  "The feds are moving our base ops from where I was to a new location.  It's not ready yet, so Meredith and I decided we both needed some sun.  I tried to get her to send you a ticket, but we decided to save that money and buy tacky souvenirs."

"I want at least two t-shirts, if you're not inviting me up," Olivia pouted.

"Deal."  Alex paused, sitting down in the deck chair overlooking the ocean.  "So how are you?  Things back home okay?" 

"Things are okay," the detective confirmed.  "Miss you like hell."

Alex covered her heart with her hand.  "I miss you so much, baby.  I...had a hard time readjusting after I saw you in DC.  It was so hard to fall asleep without you after that."

Olivia nodded to herself.  "God, I know.  I don't think I've slept a full night since then."

"Thank you for the journal," the blonde continued, watching the sun rise over the blue waters.  "It's absolutely gorgeous."

"I'm glad you liked it," Olivia smiled.  "Have you been using it?"

"Almost every day," Alex confirmed, "although, I have a bone to pick with you about that first entry.  You made me cry in front of the feds.  Not good for my street cred."

Olivia cracked up, laughing aloud.  "Street cred?" she gasped in between hiccupping giggles.  "You're so weird."

Alex laughed with her, running a hand through her hair.  "Your laughter is addictive, Detective.  And you knew a long time ago I was weird.  Don't act surprised."

Still chuckling softly, Olivia shook her head in amusement.  "So what else have you done for your birthday?" she asked softly.  "Meredith bake you a cake?"

"No.  She's about as good in the kitchen as I am.  We packed up the old house, headed to the airport, and then got on a plane.  We played a lot of cards and an ill-fated game of Monopoly.  I was actually winning when we hit turbulence," Alex said proudly.  "I figured I could claim victory, with it being my birthday and all."

"Sure, baby, you keep telling yourself that."  Olivia's grin simply would not dissipate, stuck firmly in place at the low cadence of her lover's voice.  "I wish I could give you a birthday kiss."

"Only a birthday kiss?" Alex pouted.  "I would have expected more of you."

"Are you promoting phone sex?" Olivia chuckled.

Alex laughed.  "Not necessarily.  I just thought your desire for me would extend beyond a simple lip lock."

Sighing softly, Olivia growled low in her throat.  "Believe me, it does.  I can't wait to see you again."

Alex smiled, curling her hand around the back of her neck.  "I don't know when that's going to be," she confessed softly.  "I'll work it as best I can, but with all my movement, the boys upstairs are a little nervous."

"I bet.  God, this sucks," Olivia said, echoing a sentiment now familiar to them both.  "I can't believe I won't get to spoil you on your birthday."

"So if I were there, how would you spoil me?" Alex asked, moving inside and curling up on the bed.

"Um," Olivia pondered with a throaty chuckle.  "First, we would've had dinner out - at the restaurant of your choice, of course.  Antonio's?" she suggested.

"Mmm, I miss their calamari," Alex agreed.  "Go on." 

Olivia smiled at Alex's low moan.  "I think we'd go dancing after that.  Maybe the Kitty Kat club?" she teased.  "That way, we could bump and grind without worrying about who's watching."

Alex laughed heartily, tossing off her running shoes and toeing off her socks.  "And what, pray tell, would I be wearing that would be appropriate for both Antonio's and a night bumping and grinding with New York's finest?"

"The leather pants, of course."  Olivia tried hard not to drool.  "And maybe one of those turtlenecks that make me wonder whose hickey you're hiding.  And the black leather jacket Emma got you."

Alex made a content noise in the back of her throat.  "So you and I are making asses of ourselves - I mean dancing - then what?"

"Oh, that's the best part.  Then we come back to an empty apartment - I've threatened Emma with death if she so much as thinks about calling me - and I light about a thousand candles.  I've made you a birthday cake - Black Forest, in case you're interested - but we never get to dessert."

"And we don't burn the apartment building down in the process?" Alex grinned. "That sounds like the best birthday, sweetheart."

"Maybe next year?" Olivia offered.  "Or maybe I'll take you away to the Bahamas instead."

"Whatever you want.  I'll be there," Alex replied wistfully.  "I wish you could see this sunrise with me.  That's what I want my present to be."

"Tell me where you are," Olivia whispered in a conspiratorial tone, "and I'll be there by noon.  I swear it."

"You have no idea how tempting that is to me," Alex replied.  "And if Meredith wasn't right next to me, I would tell you and pick you up at the airport myself."

Olivia sighed, frustrated.  "Don't they know they can trust me?  I'm just a good, old-fashioned New York kid, raised Greek Orthodox, with a penchant for lesbianism."

"I'll keep pleading your case," Alex promised, a yawn interrupting the flow of their conversation.  "You were raised Greek Orthodox?  I didn't know that." 

"Yeah, my mom's family was Greek, and I guess she just felt guilted into staying in the church.  Hey, I've got an idea," Olivia suggested with a bright smile that was wasted on her empty bedroom.  "Why don't I call the feebs and get myself assigned to your detail?  We can run away together."

"Where would we go?" Alex asked, curling on her side and lowering her voice.

"Wherever you want, baby."  Olivia heard the change in Alex's voice and, by instinct, snuggled under the covers and rolled onto her side.  "Bermuda.  Saint Thomas.  Prince Edward Island," she teased softly.

Alex was silent for a minute.  "Why'd you say that last one?" she asked, hearing movement behind her. 

Shrugging to herself, Olivia countered, "I dunno, I figured I'd give you some options: two sun-drenched beaches and a cold, flat, Canadian hellhole.  Why?" she asked casually.

"Hang on a minute."  Alex covered the mouthpiece to the phone and leapt up from the bed, trying to calm the detail before they sent agents in to take Olivia into custody.  She hissed at them that it was a coincidence Olivia had named the Canadian location - she knew how much Alex loved "Anne of Green Gables"; that was why the blonde had picked it after her initial transfer into federal custody.  Once she had calmed the detail down, she reconnected with Olivia.  "Sorry about that, sweetheart," she apologized, glaring at the agents as they prepared to hit the deck.

"No problem."  Olivia let the silence linger, beginning to wonder if perhaps she had hit a nerve.  "We could always just go to Paris," she amended.

"Plan A, always a good one," Alex agreed, going back out onto the balcony and closing the door.  She breathed in the Tuscan morning air and closed her eyes, missing her partner with a ferocity she'd never experienced before.  "Jesus, Liv, what time is it there?" she asked worriedly.  "My body clock is all messed up."

Olivia snuck a glance at the clock.  "Little after one.  Stop worrying about the time and talk to me.  Did I cause a Code Red?"

"Yeah," Alex confirmed.  "Don't be surprised if men in suits show up to whisk you away tomorrow.  But I think I've staved off a nuclear meltdown, so we can talk a little longer." 

"Shit, I'm sorry, sweetheart.  I really didn't know, I was just teasing.  They've gotta move you now, huh?"  Olivia kicked herself, hard, for causing another upset in a life that needed no more.

"No, we're good," Alex confirmed.  "That's the locale we're moving from.  So even if you tried to find me there, all you'd find is an empty house.  No harm, no foul.  Promise."

"Good," Olivia sighed, relieved.  "You're heading to Paris, right?" she teased.  "To meet me. 'Cause I'll be there by Tuesday and if you're not there, well, I'll be pretty pissed."

Alex grinned.  "Actually, I don't know where we're going yet.  I gave them a list of places I deemed it wouldn't suck to be a prisoner in, and they had to figure out which was the best option.  It's like Christmas, but with guns and dogs and things."

Chuckling, Olivia murmured, "You're nuts.  Any idea when we might get together again?" she asked hopefully.

"No, sweetie," Alex replied sadly.  "No idea.  But if you happen to get a random plane ticket in the mail, I'd say that's a pretty good clue you'll be getting some nookie."  The blonde turned around at a light knock on the door and Meredith appeared, looking regretful.  "Hey, baby?" she asked softly, her heart sinking.

"No," Olivia murmured, tears welling up.  "You've gotta go already?"

"Yeah, I do.  I'm sorry, sweetheart.  But I'll try to contact you again soon, I promise,"  Alex rubbed her eyes, willing herself not to cry.

Swallowing around the lump in her throat, the detective whispered, "I love you, Alex.  Be safe."

"I love you, too, baby.  So much."  Alex smiled through her tears, listening to Olivia's breathing for a few seconds.  "Thank you for my birthday present.  I'll see you in Paris."

"Happy birthday, baby," Olivia said softly.  She waited until the comparably loud click of the phone disconnecting resounded in her ear before placing the cordless back in its base.

Olivia lay back with a heavy sigh, and an even heavier heart.  Every time she thought she was starting to be okay with the whole situation, something happened to remind her how **not** okay it really was.  Curling into a tight ball on her left side, Olivia hugged one of Alex's favorite goose-down pillows to her chest and cried herself to sleep with silent tears.

* * *

"Detective Benson?"  The delivery boy entered the squad room carefully, trying to avoid walls and pistol-packing police officers by peering over the arrangement of daisies and lilies, the baby's breath tickling his nose.

"Over here," Olivia waved him toward her desk from where she was lounging against Elliot's.

The young man breathed a sigh of relief and set the arrangement on the crowded desk.  "Sign here, please," he requested, handing Olivia a clipboard.

Scrawling her signature, Olivia eyed the boy with suspicion.  The last time she'd gotten flowers, it had been from a suspected rapist and killer obsessed with making her his next victim.  "Who're they from?" she inquired.

The kid shrugged.  "I just deliver 'em," he said.  "Have a good one."

Elliot admired the arrangement and handed Olivia the card perched among the flowers.  "You have a hot date last night or something?" he teased.

The detective glared at her partner silently.  "Jackass," she muttered under her breath.  Sliding the card out of the tiny envelope, Olivia read it twice, and she started to grin.  'Jean Luc sends his best.  The pictures are on their way.'  "Paris," she murmured aloud.

Elliot looked at her with a very confused expression.  "Is this going to be one of those things you refuse to explain to me?"

Shrugging, Olivia cocked her head toward the break room.  "Grab a cup of coffee.  It's a long story."

* * *

It took a minute for the international call to connect, and Alex smiled as the ringing started in her ear.  She sat back on her towel, watching the afternoon sun shine brilliantly down onto her body.  She grinned at Meredith, whose head was covered in the largest floppy hat Alexandra had ever seen, and the agent smiled back, returning to her novel.

"Benson," Olivia answered distractedly, tucking the phone between her ear and shoulder as she tried not to burn her attempt at home-made Chinese food.

"Bongiorno," Alex greeted with a smile, readjusting the cotton under her body, careful not to burn herself on the hot plastic of the chaise lounge.

Olivia dropped her wooden spoon and sank into a kitchen chair.  "Alex?" she exclaimed delightedly.

"Hey there," Alex confirmed.  "Whatcha doin'?" 

"Talking to you," Olivia chuckled.  "And trying to cook."

"And what entree is the great Miss Child attempting this evening?" Alex asked, taking a sip of water from the bottle resting on the concrete next to her.

Grinning, Olivia replied, "Your favorite.  Crab rangoon and sesame chicken.  But who the hell cares about my food, how are you?"

"I am sitting along the ocean, at a private villa, soaking up the sun, talking to my girl."  Alex grinned as Meredith rolled her eyes.  "Couldn't be better.  And you'd better save me some of that food, missy."

"You and your private villas," Olivia teased, suddenly jealous of Meredith, whom she knew must be within hearing distance.  "Say hi to Meredith for me."

Alex covered the mouthpiece and relayed the message to the agent.  The fellow blonde held out her hand for the phone, and Alex looked at her, amused.  Meredith wiggled her fingers and Alex finally relinquished the phone.  "Hello, Detective," the sly agent greeted, a thick Southern accent evident in the words.

"Hey, there," Olivia replied, surprised but recovering quickly.  "You treatin' my girl right?"

Meredith laughed heartily.  "Your girl's a bigger pain in my ass than the gophers diggin' up my daddy's crop," she informed the brunette.  "But I'm treating her just fine.  I got her in a bathing suit and relaxing, didn't I?"

Growling softly, Olivia shook her head.  "That used to be my job," she complained good-naturedly.  "Alex suggested I save her some dinner.  You planning on sending her home sometime soon?" she added hopefully.

The agent smiled at Alex.  "As soon as it's clear, you know I'll send her on the first plane.  Things...look good," she confided.  "That's why we're letting her call so much.  Obviously, we're still taking precautions, but the clouds are lifting."

"Thank God," Olivia breathed.  "You just made my Christmas list, Meredith.  Any estimates on how long it might be before I see her cute, albeit annoying, little self again?"

"That I don't have," Meredith replied, "but as soon as I know, she'll know.  I'm sure you'll know shortly thereafter.  She's not out of the woods yet, Olivia," she warned, "but we're doing everything we can.  I promise.  Okay," she laughed, "the Coppertone baby is demanding the phone back.  It was nice to put a voice to all the stories."

"Stories? What stories?" Olivia demanded as Alex took the phone back.  "Baby, what are you telling them about me?"

"Nothing," Alexandra denied deftly.  "It looks like we'll be getting to the new base sooner than expected.  I still get a few more days in my villa, but we're moving into what they're calling phase two.  They're going to let me out of the house a few times, see if anything blips on the radar."

The brunette's heart stopped momentarily.  "Be careful," she warned.  "I don't know what I'd do if..."

"DEA is apparently close to breaking it open," Alex replied.  "We all think this might be over damn soon, Liv."

"I hope so."  Olivia smiled broadly.  "So you might be home in time for Emma's birthday.  She'd love that."

"Maybe earlier.  Possibly by the end of the summer, maybe beginning of September."  Alex grinned.  "Think you could deal with that?"

"Deal with it?  Hell, girl, you can bring the detail with you, if you want!" Olivia giggled girlishly at the prospect of having Alex to fall asleep with every night.

"Be careful, Meredith might just take you up on that.  Matt, on the other hand, has a new baby to go home and play with."  Alex smiled, taking another sip of her water.  "We should stop getting ahead of ourselves.  DEA has to bust Velez **and his people, which number in the dozens, maybe the hundreds.  I'm still a target until all of them are in custody.  That could take a while."**

"I know, but the very idea of snuggling with you again.  Making you breakfast.  Having you take out the trash."  The detective sighed in contentment.  "Get there faster," she teased Alex with a favorite inside joke.

Alex chuckled.  "You know I would if I could," she reminded the brunette.  "Did you get my delivery this morning?"

Standing up and striding to the stove, Olivia returned a bit of her attention to the task of preparing dinner.  "Yeah, I did, thanks.  What was that for, anyway?"

Alex shrugged.  "I have to have a reason to send my girlfriend flowers?"

"When you're in the Witness Protection Program, you do."

Alex sighed.  "I took precautions, Olivia.  They can't be traced back to anyone, least of all me."

"Good.  I just worry, you know?"

"You don't have to," Alex replied softly.  "I'm not putting anyone in danger, least of all you.  This call is being routed through forty international cell phone companies, and after you and I hang up, the SIM card and the phone itself will be destroyed.  No one can trace anything I do.  It's like after I hang up, I don't exist."

"I'm not worried about **me, you nitwit.  As long as you're safe, it's all good."  Olivia sighed softly.  "I love you, Alex."**

"I love you, too, sweetheart," Alex replied.  "I can't even imagine coming home. I'm afraid Cragen would have a stroke when he saw me."

"So would Emma, but in a good way."

"I hope she readjusts okay," Alex replied.  "I mean, it sounds like she just got back to normal; having me back might put her back into a tailspin."

Olivia came back with, "No way," as she took her dinner off the hot burner and placed it on a cool one.  "Emma would be so glad to see you again, it'd be like none of this ever happened.  You know, except for the fact that she'll never speak to me again."

"She'll understand why you kept this from her," Alex reassured her partner.  "It'll be hard at first, but like you said, she'll be so happy that it won't matter."

"Yeah it will."  Olivia cleared her throat, forcing her emotions away for the moment.  "Anyway, you enjoying your fun in the sun?"

"Oh, yeah," Alex replied easily.  "Obviously, it would be much better if you were here to rub suntan lotion on my back, but I'm enjoying myself nonetheless."

"Good.  Bringing me a t-shirt?" the brunette teased.

"Two, as you requested yesterday," Alex confirmed with a grin.  

"Fabulous.  If they're baby tees, Emma will be so proud."  Olivia fixed herself a plate and sat down at the kitchen table.  If she closed her eyes, she would almost be able to pretend Alex was across the table, instead of across the globe.  "Hey, I hate to toot my own horn, but I thought you might like to know, I got myself a little promotion."

"You did?  That's wonderful!" Alex grinned.  "Congratulations, baby."

"Thanks."  Olivia beamed at Alex's praise.  "Wish you could've been there for it.  Cragen wanted to keep it simple but Elliot planned this whole party thing.  He's such a jackass sometimes."

"He's just proud of you," Alex corrected.  "Did someone take pictures?"

"Yeah, Elliot got 'em with his digital camera.  Is there someplace I can upload 'em to you?" Olivia asked, feeling a new air of normalcy invade their conversation.

"I'll talk to the team about it and let you know," Alex promised.  "So are you a Detective Sergeant now, or what?  And how does Elliot feel about it?"

Olivia blushed and dug into her food.  "Yeah, that's me D.S. Benson.  Munch says it stands for Dip Shit.  Elliot's cool with it.  His'll be coming in a couple of months, we're all sure of it.  My paperwork just got processed first or somethin'."

"Smack Munch upside the head," Alex ordered.  "OPP probably finally learned their alphabet and wanted to show everyone their new skills.  That's great, though, baby.  I'm so proud of you.  What did Emma say?" 

Laughing, Olivia replied, "Emma said Munch has a small penis, and took me to Renew to celebrate."

"Good.  Did you enjoy yourself?"  Olivia sounded well-adjusted, but Alex still worried the detective wouldn't let herself go, that she was holding back on her life until the blonde returned home.

"It was nice.  Woulda been better if you were there."  Pausing, Olivia added, "I got hit on twice that night."

"Only twice?" 

"Yes, only twice," the detective chuckled.

"Must've been a slow night," Alex replied.  "I'm glad to hear you celebrated.  You deserve to have a little fun." 

"I have plenty of fun ideas for when you're back home."

Alex chuckled throatily.  "I have no doubt, Detective Benson."

Grinning, Olivia denied, "That's not what I meant.  I just meant...you know, the usual.  The way we always had fun, just hanging out."

"Yeah," Alex replied wistfully.  "My favorite nights were always the ones where we would just order in and talk about anything and everything.  It's so easy just being with you." 

Olivia suddenly found a lump in her throat and swallowed around it.  "Come home soon."

"I promise."  Alex smiled, watching the water sparkle under the sun.  "Emma would go nuts if we told her how emotional we keep getting during these conversations."

"She must never know," Olivia jokingly threatened.  "Or I'll send you packing to Meredith."

Alex laughed again.  "Speaking of, I think she and I are going to go hunt down some food.  Can I call you later?"

"Absolutely."  Olivia made a mental note to call Emma and cancel their movie night.  "This is so incredible.  It's almost...normal."

"That's a word that's never been applied to us before," Alex joked.  "Love you, babe."

"Love you, too.  Be safe."

* * *

Emma kicked the bottom of Olivia's door with her foot.  "Yo, Charlie," she called, smiling hello to Olivia's neighbor.  "Open the door."

Sprinting toward the door, Olivia opened it with a shake of her head.  "You didn't get my message?"

"Of course I did.  I just chose to ignore it."  Emma grinned, setting the tray she was carrying on Olivia's counter.  "I just made you some of my famous brownies and figured I'd deliver them, even though you're ditching me tonight."

"Emmy..."  The brunette glanced toward the phone.  "I've got stuff to do, I'm sorry.  I really am."

Emma grinned.  "Honey, I'm just shitting you.  I'm on my way to Gables to work on the books, and just wanted to drop these off for you.  It's no problem, babe.  Really."

"Okay.  Thanks."  Olivia grinned, relieved.

Emma kissed her on the cheek and headed back towards the door. "Oh, hey," she said, turning around, "do you have that CD I lent you?  I'd like to use it at work tonight."

"The mix?" Olivia asked, heading toward her CD rack.  "It's here somewhere."  She started thumbing through unmarked cases.

"You had it for running the other day.  Is it still in your workout bag?"

"Might be.  I'll be right back."  Olivia ducked into the bedroom and found her gym bag, scouring the contents until she found the elusive disc.

As Olivia slipped into the bedroom, her phone started ringing.  "You want me to grab that?" Emma hollered.

Olivia's heart started to pound as she realized who the caller probably was.  "No!" she shouted over the ringing.  "It's work, let me get it!" the detective called as she jogged toward the front of the apartment.

Emma grabbed the phone and looked at the Caller ID.  "It says unknown name.  Probably telemarketers.  C'mon, let me play with 'em, please?"

"Emma!" Olivia called as she burst into the room, trying not to sound as panicked as she felt.  She was too late.

"Jorge's House of Cheese," Emma greeted with giggles.

Alex took a sharp breath in, tears springing immediately to her eyes at the sound of Emma's voice.  Her face buckled as the tears streamed down her cheeks.  She wanted so desperately to say something to her sister, but instead, she hung up the phone with a sob.

Emma disconnected after hearing the silence.  "I love scaring them," she said with a grin.  "I'm off.  See you later, Liv."

"Bye," Olivia managed softly.  When Emma had gone, she sank onto the couch and stared at the phone, willing Alex to call back.

In Tuscany, Alex sat on her bed, phone cradled to her chest.  She hadn't cried hard since she read Olivia's journal entry after leaving DC.  Now, she fought to regain her sight and her breath.  The thing that upset her the most wasn't that she had almost been caught, or even hearing her sister's voice, it was that for a split second, Alex nearly said something to her younger sister.  She had been so good for six months, limiting her contact to Olivia, following the requests and orders of her detail.  But she had been willing to throw all of it away just to say a simple hello.

She waited five minutes and then called back, hoping the blonde was away from the phone or out of the apartment.

Olivia forced herself to answer the phone with "Benson", rather than crying out Alex's name.

"Hey," Alex replied shakily.  "Coast clear?" 

"All clear," Olivia replied softly.  "I am so, so sorry.  I tried to stop her.  She wasn't even supposed to **be here."  The detective realized she was starting to ramble and took a deep breath.**

"It's okay.  I know how she gets," Alex said.  "It's not your fault." 

"I'm really sorry, Alex," Olivia repeated.  "You okay?"

"No," Alex replied with a sigh.  "That was the first time since I left that I felt completely out of control.  It was the first time I wanted to out myself, scream out that I'm alive.  I wasn't prepared for that at all."

"That's totally natural," Olivia assured her, knowing that Alex just needed to hear it aloud.  "And pretty soon, you'll be home and won't have to worry about any of this anymore."

"She didn't have a clue, right?"

"Nope, thought you were a telemarketer," Olivia replied softly.  "Do you...want me to try telling her?"

Alex took a long pause.  "No, I don't think so.  I want to know for certain that I'm coming home before we open that can of worms."

Leaning back against the couch, Olivia cradled the phone as gently as if it were a baby.  "Okay," she said slowly.  "Sorry to spoil your vacation."

"Oh, you didn't," Alex reassured her quickly.  "It just threw me back to reality for a moment.  But I'm settled back into my fantasy with the butlers and margaritas."  She laid out on her back, closing her eyes and pretending Olivia was next to her, rather than thousands of miles away.  "What are you doing tonight?" 

"Lying on my couch, sipping some Cabernet you'd love, picturing you naked," Olivia chuckled.

Alex laughed.  "Sounds like a great evening.  Did you cancel on Emma to do that?"

"Sure did.  Sent her cute ass packing in favor of yours."

"Well, my ass appreciates it," the blonde chuckled.  "Meredith enjoyed talking to you today."

"She seems really nice," Olivia said with a grin.  "How much does she know about...us?" she faltered.

"Pretty much everything.  I had to give them an entire bio when I came underground; they needed to assess the players, threats, et cetera.  Anybody I had ever met, I had to tell them about.  But she's pretty awesome, and given the time we spend together, and the close quarters we keep, we just became friends.  She's told me all about her boyfriend, so it's an even trade."

"Oh, really?  You trading tips on how best to bat your eyelashes to get what you want?" Olivia asked teasingly.

Alex laughed again.  "Oh, yeah.  We're the founders of the spoiled princesses club.  I don't know," she teased, "I get pretty much whatever I want right now; they need to keep the prisoner happy.  You're going to have some pretty big spoiling shoes to fill when I get home."

"What're you talking about?" Olivia demanded, chuckling.  "You were spoiled long before you left."

"Oh, but this is so much bigger, Olivia.  I have the entire federal government at my disposal," Alex joked. 

Olivia bantered back immediately, "But they don't have certain tools that **I have at my disposal."**

"Really?" Alex sounded intrigued.  "Do tell, Detective."

"They number eleven," Olivia explained, "and usually make you scream my name.  Those," she added, "and my AmEx."

Alex laughed.  "You'll have to reacquaint me when I get home."  She took a deep breath as she rolled on to her side.  "What are you expecting my transition to be when I get back there?"

"I'm not putting any expectations on you, Alex," Olivia said, pulling her legs up and resting on her folded knees.  "Whatever you need to do when you get home, however you need to handle it, that's up to you."

"I guess I just wonder what everyone's reactions will be, especially when they learn you and Elliot knew.  I don't know how that's going to affect my emotional state.  You know me," she continued, "I like being prepared."

"Well," Olivia thought aloud, "they're gonna be pretty pissed.  But after a while, they'll understand why we had to do it this way.  Munch'll probably be the one in our corner. You know him and his conspiracies...he'll see how everyone was out to get you," she smiled.

Alex chuckled.  "It's the first time in my life that I'll be making a decision, knowing it's going to devastate a number of people, and really not caring.  I guess it's just a little daunting to stare that in the face."

"Do you really have a choice?"

"Touché," Alex replied softly.  "You know, I just really want to get home, and deal with the consequences later.  Just dive in head first like I used to."

"Then that's what you'll do.  Trust me, Alex," Olivia said in her most confident voice, "once you're home with me, everything else will make sense."

"I know, baby," Alex replied.  "I can't wait until that day."

"Me, either.  Although," Olivia grinned, "I'm really appreciating not having to clean long, blond hairs out of the drain."

"You want me to cut it?" Alex asked. "To shoulder length, like it was when I first started in SVU.  That way, you'll only have to clean short, blond hairs out of the drain." 

"I'm just teasing you," Olivia replied.  "You do what you want - as long as it isn't bangs."

"I'll think about it."  She sighed contentedly.  "I feel about sixteen again," she confided.  "I'd just be happy listening to you breathe all night." 

"I feel the exact same way," Olivia admitted in a hush, reaching for her wineglass.  "I never thought I could miss you this much."

"It's truly amazing how two solitary people like us have turned into this.  I never needed or wanted anything before I met you.  I was perfectly fine, and then you had to go and rescue my sister."

Olivia took a sip of wine and set the glass down, leaning back against the soft leather of the couch cushion, grinning like a wildcat.  "You're really...in love with me?  Aren't you?"  Her broken cadence and lowered voice revealed the amazement within Olivia at the late-coming realization.

Alex smiled gently, softly.  "I really am," she confirmed.  "Sucks for you." 

"Nah, it's good for me.  Keeps me in line," Olivia smiled gently.  "Why?"

"Why do I love you?" 

"Right," Olivia acknowledged in a voice barely above a whisper.

"Where do I begin?" Alex asked, in a whisper of her own.  "Well, it's like I said in DC.  You're the first person I've known was my equal, was worthy of my time.  You're amazingly intelligent, caring and loving almost to a fault...I just love being around you, wondering what other amazing things you'll show me.  You make me laugh, which we all know is a feat few have mastered, and you know me like the back of your hand.  You challenge me and trust me.  You're just everything I ever wanted.  Simple as that."

"Simple, huh?  That was a pretty complicated answer.  I'm still not sure I agree with you a hundred percent.  I mean, I'm pretty fucked up, Alex."  Olivia wondered why she was arguing this point now, but she couldn't seem to help herself.

"Aren't we all?" Alex replied.  "I've made my life's work to compensate for the fact that I couldn't protect my eight-year-old sister from abuse.  I was eleven at the time, Olivia.  Why do I let my childhood affect my life as much as it does?"  She paused.  "Nobody's perfect, Olivia.  But I think the reason I can love you as much as I do is because I accept who you are, flaws and all.  I love you in spite of, and because of them.  They're what make you **you." **

Olivia cleared her throat in embarrassment.  "Yeah."

Alex chuckled.  "Thanks for the ringing endorsement, Liv."

"Sorry, I'm just not good with the mutual admiration society we've got going.  I guess I see you as being so much - I don't want to say 'better' than me, that's not the word.  Maybe..."  The brunette trailed off, sipping her wine.  "Maybe 'more sophisticated'?  Sometimes I think you're gonna try to find someone with a little more class."

"I'm not as highbrow as you think I am," Alex replied.  "I put myself through school - both undergrad and law.  I survived on mac and cheese and SpaghettiO's for God knows how long.  Yeah, my family comes from money, but I ran far away from that after we got Emma out of the house.  I'm just like you, Liv."

Contritely, Olivia replied, "I didn't mean it that way, Allie.  I just meant...hell, I don't know," she chuckled, her heart in her throat.  "Let's drop it and have phone sex," she teased.

Alex laughed.  "I'm sure Meredith would love that.  These walls are paper thin."  She paused, then lowered her voice again.  "How did you mean it, babe?"

"I meant that I feel like I'm not good enough," Olivia said, toying with a loose thread on the afghan lying over her legs.  "Hell," she added, almost inaudibly, "I couldn't even protect you from Mark...or Velez."

"Baby, you're responsible only for yourself, not for psychopathic rapists and drug kingpins."  Alex sighed softly.  "You're your worst critic.  I could tell you that you were Mother Teresa, the Pope, Jonatha Brooke, but you wouldn't believe me.  If you weren't good enough, would I make the time for you that I do?  Would I be as head over heels for you as I am?" 

"Maybe you're biased."

"Maybe.  But that doesn't mean I'm not right." 

Laughing softly, Olivia finished her wine and set the glass on the coffee table.  "Point taken.  If I'm my own worst critic, then are you Siskel or Ebert?"

"I think I'm more of a Roeper," Alex replied.

"I think you're crazy," Olivia countered with a wide grin.  "Have I told you that I miss you in the last five minutes?"

"No.  You must be slipping," Alex smiled.  "I miss you, too, sweetheart."

"If I close my eyes really tight and click my ruby slippers, will you be here, kissing me?"

"Not tonight.  My jet-pack is low on battery.  I'd probably crash somewhere in the Bermuda Triangle."

"That'd suck," Olivia chuckled.  "Maybe tomorrow?"

"I'll see what I can do.  So, Detective Sergeant Benson, you got any plans for the weekend?"  Alex stood up, shimmying out of her mesh shorts and t-shirt, pulling her nightie over her head.  She pulled down the covers and slid across the fresh sheets, propping up the pillows behind her shoulders and head.

"Not unless you pull a 'Genie in a Bottle' and appear on my doorstep.  Otherwise, it's me, Emma and a six-pack, like every weekend."  Olivia stood and stretched, making her way into the bedroom.  She threw herself down, fully clothed, and stretched out.  "God, this bed feels good."

"What are you wearing?" Alex's voice turned husky.

A confused look crossed the brunette's face.  "My faded jeans and a turtleneck."

"Yum," Alex replied, chuckling as she envisioned the blush creeping up the detective's cheeks.  She yawned, checking the clock.  Three AM never sounded so good.

The blush did more than creep - it swept over Olivia's face as a rushing wave of emotion.  "Why'd you wanna know that?" she protested belatedly.

"You know I'm a visual person," Alex replied primly.

Chuckling softly, Olivia lowered her voice to a throaty whisper.  "You're trying to visualize me in bed?"

"Of course," Alex replied, with an air of 'what are you going to do about it?'  "You know, I like Meredith, but I don't **like Meredith.  So I take my jollies where I can get 'em." **

"Please, take all you want."  Olivia was practically purring at the idea that the mental image of her could make Alexandra react in a certain way.

"Oh, I will," Alex replied hoarsely.  "Don't you worry, Detective." 

Shivering slightly as a tightness crept into her belly, Olivia rolled over onto her stomach, clutching the phone in her left hand.  "What're **you wearing?"**

Alex chuckled.  "A black lace nightie," she replied softly.

"Seriously?"

"Yeah," Alex replied with a chuckle.  "You don't believe me?" 

"I do," Olivia assured her softly.  "It's just that you know what the idea of you in a black teddy does to me.  Don't start something you don't intend to finish."

Alexandra's chuckle moved back into her lower throat.  "What do you want, Olivia?" 

Olivia's heart pounded as she whispered, "What I always want.  You, sweetheart."

Alex smiled.  "Where do you want me, baby?"

"Beneath me, writhing."

"What are you doing to make me writhe under you?"  Alex closed her eyes, resting her hand on her satin clad stomach. 

Olivia shifted so she was lying half on her side, half on her stomach.  "Well, at first, I was kissing your neck," she said softly, "in the way that makes you gasp for breath."

"Was your hand on my hip, or was it on my breast?" Alex whispered, her breathing speeding up just slightly.

"On your hip," Olivia murmured, the tightness in her chest becoming an ache.  "Until I slide it up, tickling you just a little.  Then it ended up on your breast."

"Are you just massaging my breast, or are you playing with my nipple?"

"Definitely playing with your nipple," Olivia whispered.  "With my fingers, until I close my lips around it."

"Mmm," Alex breathed.  "Are you sucking on my bare nipple, or are you doing it through the satin and lace of my teddy?"

"Your teddy's been on the floor for ten minutes," Olivia chuckled breathlessly.  "I've been staring at your gorgeous naked body."

"Do you like what you see?"  

"God, you know I - " Olivia's reply was interrupted by a loud beeping and she cursed loudly.  "Dammit, Alex, I have to go.  My beeper just went off."

Alex let out a loud exasperated sigh.  "All right.  I'll call you tomorrow."

"I'm sorry, baby.  I love you."

"I love you, too.  Bye."  Alex disconnected and threw the cell phone on the bed next to her, putting a hand on her chest to calm her breathing. 

Olivia hung up and grabbed her beeper, cursing it and its message as she returned the call.

* * *

Olivia whistled softly as she strolled down the sidewalk.  The dead of winter had passed and spring was on its way, so she had gotten off the subway one stop early and chosen to walk the last ten blocks home.  Striding up the stairs, Olivia pulled out her key and was about to slide it into the lock, when she noticed that the door was ajar.  Stuffing the key in the back pocket of her jeans, Olivia drew her gun and clicked off the safety.  Slipping back down the hall, she used her cell to call for backup, then approached the apartment slowly.

Cocking the weapon, Olivia reached out and forced the door open.  Back to the wall, she slipped into the apartment and aimed at the back of the head attached to the person lounging on her couch.  "NYPD, freeze!" she cried.  "On the floor, now!"

"Whoa, whoa!"  Meredith Weston hit the floor in an awkward spread-eagled pose.  "Detective Benson, Agent Meredith Weston!  US Marshals."

"Meredith."  Olivia breathed a sigh of relief, as her eyes lit up.  She safetied and holstered her weapon, asking rapid questions.  "Where's Alex?  Is she here?  What happened to Velez?"

Meredith eased herself off the floor, grunting as she lifted herself back onto the couch.  She adjusted the sling holding her right arm in place and looked at Olivia.  "You need to sit down."

Eyeing the sling, Olivia sank onto the arm of the couch, her throat closing off with fear.  "God, no.  What the hell happened?"

Meredith licked her lips, her face bruised and colored.  "We were ambushed," she explained.  "Reentering the country from Europe.  Somebody...got wind of our travel plans and met us outside the airport."

"No."  Olivia shook her head slowly, refusing to believe what she was hearing.  "What happened to Alex? Where is she?"  She peppered Meredith with questions.  Sliding onto the couch beside the agent, Olivia gripped her good arm tightly.  "Is she okay?"

"She's fine," Meredith assured her.  "Matt threw her in the truck and got her out of there.  I don't know where they went," she sighed with a shake of her head.  She reached around Olivia's couch and pulled out a large manila envelope.  "These are all her personal belongings.  I saved them for you, figured you'd want 'em."  She smiled thinly.  "I wanted to tell you in person that she won't be able to contact you for a while.  They've probably got her so far underground she'll forget what the sun looks like.  I just didn't want you to worry when she didn't call." 

"Thanks," Olivia managed to murmur as she took the envelope, clutching it like a lifeline.  Her tone changed distinctly as the detective slipped into investigative mode.  "What the hell happened, Meredith?  Things were great, you guys said the DEA was closing in on Velez.  How'd it all change so fast?"

Meredith bit the inside of her cheek, then held out her hand. "Give me your weapon."   
  


"What? No." Olivia's hand flew to her gun automatically, shielding it from sight.  
  


"Then you have to promise not to shoot me between the eyes when I tell you this." Meredith tossed her hair over her shoulder, looking out the large window next to her. "We had intelligence that said Velez's men may not have dropped their interest in Alex after her death. We thought they might have been monitoring people of interest in her life."  
  


"People of interest?" Olivia repeated slowly. "You mean..." The pieces began to fall into place in her mind, and the detective narrowed her eyes. "You," she growled, leaping to her feet and looming over Meredith, "you **bastards! You used Alex as fucking ****bait." The rage in her voice could not be conveyed with pure volume; even Olivia heard the lethal threat in her voice. If anything happened to Alex, she would hunt them down, one by one, starting with the woman in front of her. "She trusted you," Olivia seethed. "You swore you'd protect her." Her hand curled into a fist, dark eyes flashing, she was barely able to stifle the driving impulse to break her fist against Meredith's jaw. "And you used her."  
  
**

"It wasn't my decision," Meredith responded, "but yes, they did. We did. We tapped the phone calls to see if anyone was listening, and then traced the listening devices. We've arrested twelve people already, Olivia. Some good did come of this."  
  


"Some good?" Olivia laughed, a harsh, cold sound echoing off the walls. "My girlfriend is so far underground that she may never come up for air, and you're trying to tell me you did a good thing? If you gave a rat's ass about Alex, you would've warned her. Christ, Meredith, you talked to me on her phone! How could you?" Olivia's hurt mingled with fear and suspicion that all of this might just be a small facade in a bigger game than she'd thought possible. Gesturing toward the door, Olivia lowered her voice a little to let her words sink in. "Why did I let Alex's sister mourn her for almost a year, why am I lying to her **every **day? So you guys could catch some of Velez's flunkies? Get **him!" she demanded. "Tell you what," she bargained, not giving Meredith a chance to speak, "you just ****find Velez, I'll do the rest. Give me ten seconds with him and I'll fix your little extradition problem."  
  
**

"We are closer than we've ever been," Meredith replied, pausing as the hollow words sunk into the floor. "Truth is, Olivia, I didn't know any of this was going on. I was completely in the dark. They used me, too." The blonde sighed. "I am truly sorry for everything you and Emma have gone through since Alex's departure. And you have every reason to be angry and upset. I'm worried about her, too. She had such free reign compared to other witnesses, she's going to have a hell of a time adjusting." The agent started to rise off the couch. "I should be going."  
   
"Wait," Olivia relented with a sigh. "I - I'm sorry." The words didn't come easy, but necessarily. "Thank you for everything you did for her. If...will you be able to find out where she is?"  
  


Meredith shook her head sadly.  "They've classified all her information.  I could lose my job just by telling you this.  I'm sorry, Olivia."

"Jesus."  Olivia sighed with a slight nod.  "Thank you for coming here," she said sincerely.

"No problem," Meredith replied, rising from the couch.  "I should go.  Good luck."

"You, too."  Olivia's hand slipped out and grasped Meredith's left shoulder.  "If you can get a message to her..."  Her voice broke and she took a deep breath before she was able to continue.  "Tell her I love her."

"I will, I promise."  Meredith smiled, moving to the door.  "Hey, will you call off the guard dogs?" she asked with a chuckle, cocking her head towards the responding officers.

"Ah, shit, sorry."  Olivia shook her head, brandishing her badge and ID.  "Thanks, guys, false alarm.  I forgot I gave her a key."  She faked an embarrassed grin as the officers turned away, grumbling about gold shields.

Meredith followed the officers out, with a final encouraging smile to Olivia as she exited the building.

Clicking the door shut, Olivia made her way silently to the couch, where she settled down and stared at the manila envelope cradled in her hands.  After more than half an hour, she finally ripped the top open, as delicately as if she were holding Alexandra's very heart in her hands.  When the envelope was open, Olivia poured the contents out onto the coffee table and stared for a while longer.

Using her fingers, the detective separated each item from the others, laying them out like pieces of a puzzle.  Alexandra's journal.  Olivia fingered the leather binding and the tears that she thought had been banished sprang back to life beneath the lids of her brown eyes.

Alexandra's favorite necklace, the simple gold chain with a tiny, round diamond solitaire, the one Olivia had bought her on their first anniversary.  It had been an 'I'm sorry I listened to your sister when she was drunk and got mad at you' gift, she remembered as she draped the thin links across the palm of her hand.  Olivia had chosen the thinnest chain the store carried, because she knew how Alex hated bulky jewelry, but it made her feel so clumsy.  Every time the blonde had asked for her help in securing or removing it, Olivia had been terrified she'd snap the fragile necklace with her uncoordinated fingers.  Shoot a gun?  Sure.  Handcuff a perp?  Totally.  Take a little necklace off a half-naked Alexandra, requesting your help in the soft, throaty moan that meant she wanted nothing more than to feel you inside her as quickly as possible?  Snowball's chance in hell.  Olivia chuckled aloud, softly, as she recalled how many nights they'd gotten frustrated with her bungling efforts to unhook the chain, and Alex had ended up making love to her with the solitaire glinting in the candlelight.  Noticing the broken clasp, Olivia nodded slowly to herself.  Alex never would've given it up willingly.  She guessed that the chain was ripped off during the ambush and Meredith thought enough of it to pick the necklace up and include it with the rest of Alex's things.

The tears began to creep down her cheeks as Olivia ran her fingers over a silk scarf, a cheap pen Alex had taken from the Ritz-Carlton where they were reunited, and the miniature model of the Washington Monument.  "Your giant penis," she chuckled in a damp whisper, and let the tears flow freely.  "Alex," she murmured to the collection of items that symbolized her beloved's existence for the past nine months.  "Baby, where are you?"

It wasn't until she came to the last item in the pile that Olivia really lost it.  She cradled the tiny replica of her detective's badge in her left fist and shook her head.  "Dammit," she cursed the Marshals, knowing how scared Alex must be, and how much that stupid little pin would've comforted her.  "You couldn't just give her that, could you?  Goddamit."  Olivia squeezed the pin tighter, not caring when it pierced her skin and drew blood.  When the tears finally stopped and she opened her hand, the petite gold shield was covered with her blood.

* * *

The room reminded her of her college dorm.  A single bed, a desk and chair, a television with basic cable, and a lamp she was sure was older than she was.  There were no windows in the room; there were only a handful in the new location, and they were all covered with steel bars.  The new detail had moved in, comprised of three men who were apparently former stunt doubles for Jean Claude Van Damme; Alex was certain they could break her over their knees if they were so inclined.  

A guard was posted outside her door at all times.  She didn't even have solitude in the restroom; a female agent accompanied her.  Alex wasn't sure yet why that was; were they afraid she'd try to contact Olivia again?  She asked the female agent that on one of their trips together, but the woman just shook her head.

"Then why?" Alex demanded, encroaching on the woman's personal space.  "Why am I being treated like a prisoner?"

The woman looked her straight in the eye.  "You should be in a body bag right now.  We're not taking any more chances with you."

Alex set her jaw.  "The last detail said the DEA was this-close to capturing Velez.  They said I could go home soon."

The woman shook her head again.  "Miss Cabot, at this rate, you're never going home."

THE END


	18. Resurrection

Olivia detailed the previous day's events to her partner in a hushed tone.  She still couldn't believe everything that had happened.

Elliot leaned back and whistled.  "Damn, Liv."  He shook his head. "I'm sorry," he offered, feeling helpless.

"Me, too."  Olivia's mood matched Elliot's.  "And I **still** can't tell Emma, which kills me more than anything."

"I wish I knew what to tell you," Elliot replied.  He chuckled after a minute.  "Can you imagine how ballistic Alex is gonna go when she figures out they're messing with her?"

"Sweet Jesus," Olivia breathed dramatically.  "I fear for the lives of those poor U.S. Marshals.  My Alexandra is not a happy camper when you mess with her."  The detective caught her slip and suddenly found her pen worthy of serious investigation.

Elliot laughed fully now.  "**Your** Alexandra?  Hm, what part of you would she remove first if you ever said that in front of her?"

"I've said it to her before," Olivia defended with a slight grin.  "Besides, she's called me worse than that."

Elliot held up his hands.  "Forget I asked."  He bounced slightly in his chair and then sat forward, leaning in towards Olivia's desk.  "You know, we still have the info on Zapata and Velez from the Sandoval case.  We could do a little digging on our own, see if we can get to him first."

Turning excited eyes toward Elliot, Olivia began to beam.  "Seriously?  You'd do that?"

Elliot shrugged.  "Under normal circumstances, no.  But this is you.  And Alex.  Plus, it's becoming quite obvious we can't take the feds at face value."

"No kidding."  Lowering her voice further, Olivia asked, "Think we oughta tell Mister 'I Know Who Really Killed JFK'?" inclining her head toward Munch's back.

Elliot shook his head.  "The feds have him on satellite surveillance.  They'll be alerted before he starts talking about underground bunkers and nuclear testing sites."

"You're probably right," Olivia agreed with a sigh.  She was sick to death of not knowing who to trust - or rather, not being able to trust anyone.  "Okay, first step?" she asked, answering her own question with, "The Marshals.  We've gotta find out who was watching Alex - and me - and find anyone they might've missed."

"We gotta figure out Velez's contacts. Suppliers, distributors, enforcers...we gotta map it, figure out who the feds are eyeing."  Elliot pulled out a yellow pad and ripped out a new page, starting a spider web type diagram.

"Okay, listen, I've got a contact at the Marshals.  She's not supposed to tell me anything, but maybe she can get us Alex's file or at least a piece of it."  Olivia fully intended to play on any and all guilt Meredith had over Alex being forced back underground.

Elliot nodded.  "Excellent."  He watched Olivia's fervor return, and the color flush her cheeks.  He hated to derail her train, but the question had to be asked.  "Liv, you know I want to help you get her home in one piece.  But I've got a family to think about.  If we snoop too far, are my kids in danger?"

"Probably," Olivia acknowledged with a shake of her head.  "This is my problem, El.  I'll take whatever help you can give, okay?"

"You got it."  Elliot nodded, and then motioned with his chin to their approaching captain.  "What's up, Cap?"

* * *

"I want to see her.  Now," Olivia demanded calmly.  "Just trust me," she said, holding up a hand to forestall the secretary's argument, "Agent Weston will agree to see me."

The secretary sighed.  "One moment."  She dialed Meredith's extension and spoke softly into the phone.  She hung up and looked at Olivia.  "Agent Weston will be right out."

Two minutes later, Meredith appeared, clad in a navy pinstripe suit.  "Detective," she greeted, holding a door open.  "Please, come with me."

Olivia followed Meredith in and waited in silence for the agent to shut the door.

Meredith shut the office door and motioned to one of the chairs in front of her desk.  She leaned against the front, looking at the detective.  "I have a feeling this isn't a social call or you checking on my broken arm."

"Got that right."  The detective stared the marshal down.  "I want Alex home, and I want it done before Emma's birthday.  Now," she continued, cutting Meredith off, "there are two ways to accomplish this.  One, I sit on my ass and wait for your agency to fumble their way to a successful conclusion.  Been there, done that, threw away the t-shirt," she griped without a hint of humor.  "Two, you and I put our sizable brains together and come up with a better plan."

"Detective Benson, I have been removed from that case.  I can't help you," Meredith replied.

Olivia lowered her voice to a confidential tone.  "I'm not asking officially, Meredith," she said urgently.  "Alex needs your help."

"Detective Benson, I really wish I could help you," the blonde agent replied.  "But my hands are tied.  Her case has been reclassified."

"Let me put it another way."  Olivia stood leisurely and leaned over, into the agent's personal space.  "Alexandra will **die** if you don't help me."  Without another word, and certain that her message had been made clear, Olivia turned and strode out of the office.

* * *

She showed up at the apartment later that night, clad in jeans and a Red Sox ball cap.  It was weird knocking on the door when she had entered the apartment so easily the last time she visited.  When no immediate reply came, she knocked louder.

Rising to her feet wearily, Olivia trudged toward the door and peered through the peephole.  She reached for the knob with a self-satisfied smirk.  "Agent Weston," she said quietly, letting the door swing open as she turned away from the doorway.

Meredith shut the door behind her.  "Look, I know you're pissed.  I am, too."  She sighed, removing her cap, revealing a chunky braid falling down her back.  "I could lose my job if they know I'm talking to you about Alex."

"You said that before, yet here you are."  Olivia strode into the kitchen, grabbing two fresh beers.  She went back into the living room and offered one to Meredith.

Meredith uncapped the beer and took a long swig.  "When I joined the Marshals, I thought I would be helping the good guys protect the innocent.  I thought I would be the last line of defense."  She shook her head.  "Protecting one drug dealer from another was sickening enough.  But watching them dangle Alex in front of Velez's nose...that made me ill beyond words.  I still feel a loyalty to the service, but..." she stopped and took another sip from the bottle.  She reached inside her jacket and pulled out a file folder.  "That's everything I could get on her case, and on Velez.  Most of the real dirt isn't in the file, but I can fill in some of the blanks."

Olivia flipped the folder open but kept her eyes on Meredith.  "You told me you didn't know their plans for Alex," she accused.

"I didn't know until they were in place."  Meredith sighed. "I didn't get it until they encouraged me to have her call you."  The blonde shook her head, her voice cracking.  "She didn't even blink, she was...so excited to hear your voice again."  She exhaled sharply, sipping her drink.

"Goddammit."  Olivia realized she was as complicit as the agents in this; she was a detective, she should've known that something was amiss.  "Okay, Mer, where do we go from here?"

"Well," Meredith said leaning back on the couch, "I can tell you that there's no way to figure out where the hell they've got her at this point.  That information has been classified to the highest powers.  What I can tell you is that there is a simultaneous power play going on right now in Velez's territory.  He's got a second, this guy named Hernandez.  Hernandez used to be involved with Velez's main competitor's daughter.  It looks like the lovebirds are trying to overthrow the two individual cartels and corner the market.  The thing is," Meredith leaned toward Olivia, "even Hernandez doesn't know where Velez is.  But we have leads.  So, what I was thinking is, if we track the leads we have on Velez, the ones we got from your conversations with Alex, we can let Hernandez know.  Our problem would be very quickly solved thereafter."

"Let Montague whack Capulet and keep our hands clean?" Olivia chuckled dryly.  "I like it.  How do we go about leaking this info to Hernandez?"

"We have a ton of people from DEA undercover there, like Sandoval was.  I can convince them the intel I give them will nail Hernandez, and they'll make sure he gets it.  Instead, it'll lead us right to Velez."  Meredith laughed, toeing off her running shoes.  "I make a good little conspirator against the federal government, don't I?"

"Hell yes, you do."  Olivia raised her beer bottle, tapping the neck against Meredith's.  "To Alex."

Meredith smiled.  "To Alex."  Taking a deep breath, she slid the file closer to her.  "All right, let's figure out where this shithead is."  She looked up to clarify.  "Velez, not your girlfriend." 

* * *

The phone rang and Olivia snatched it up.  "Benson," she replied breathlessly, having dashed up three flights after her five-mile run.  _Please be Alex, asking me to pick her up at the airport, _she prayed.

"It's me," a different blonde replied.  "The eagle has landed."

"What?"  Olivia stared at the answering machine as if it contained a translation.  "Emma?"

Meredith sighed.  "No, the blonde you've never wanted to sleep with," she teased.  In the three weeks since she and Olivia had started working together, some two months after Alex and the detail were ambushed, she finally got to relay the best news of her career.  "I just got off the phone with a friend down south."

"And?" Olivia snapped, anxious for news.  "Tell me something."

"It went off without a hitch. I think we should have something by the end of the week, if not sooner.  He was definitely very, very interested," Meredith replied.

"Sweet," Olivia murmured, exhaling hard.  "This could actually work, couldn't it?"

"Looks that way," the agent confirmed.  "Although, I will miss our nightly drug-running chats.  They brought so much purpose to my life." 

"Yeah, yeah.  Just come over and I'll make you dinner every Sunday.  You and Alex can catch up."

Meredith chuckled.  "Will do.  I gotta run, but as soon as I hear anything, I'll let you know."

"Thanks."  Olivia hung up and got on her cell phone - the only phone she was sure wasn't being tapped - and called Elliot on his cell.  "Good news," she reported.  "The worm is on the hook and in the water."

"Excellent.  Any idea on when we'll get a bite?"  Elliot reached out and intercepted a roll flying across his kitchen, glaring at his son.

"Meredith says we oughta know by Friday.  I'll keep you posted."

"Thanks."  Elliot disconnected, bounding up the stairs after his bread-throwing kids.

* * *

"Miss Cabot."  The voice startled her, and the blonde rolled onto her side, blinking as he turned the overhead light on.  "Yeah?" she asked hoarsely, rubbing her eyes from the minute of sleep she'd caught in between crying.

"You need to come with me," Hans said, leaving the door open.  Alex eased herself up off the cot and followed the agent to the briefing room.  As she entered it, she was surprised to see DEA Agent Hammond sitting with her regular detail.

Hammond rose, extending his hand.  "Miss Cabot," he greeted.  "This is Director Halladay," he introduced another man in a suit, "and this is DEA Agent Joseph."  Alex shook the offered hands, and sat down at the long conference table.

Halladay stood.  "At 0415 this morning, Cesar Velez was killed in La Paz.  We received intelligence that one of the main players was meeting with a potential new distributor. We had reason to believe that the player was a man by the name of Eduardo Hernandez, but it turned out Velez was actually the one in the market for a new supplier.  Shots were exchanged, and Velez was a confirmed kill."  Alex's heart stopped as Halladay continued.  "Right now, there is a power play for Velez's territory.  That seems to be their main priority, not you."

The blonde blinked.  "So I'm done?"

Hammond nodded.  "He's been dealt with.  You're free to go."

Alex released a shaky, disbelieving breath. "Oh, my God."

The lead DEA agent on her detail, whom she'd nicknamed Mad Max, passed her a folder.  "That's your ticket home. We created an alias for you for the time being.  We'd like to keep you restricted for a little while longer, just to make sure the rats are scurrying after each other rather than your trail."

"How long is a little while?" Alex asked, picking up her new driver's license - Alexandra Allen.  _How creative_, she thought, refraining from rolling her eyes.

"Six months should do the trick, but we'll pull the alias earlier if you're not threatened," Max replied.  "We've got you some property on Long Island, and can set you up with a job if you feel like going back to work."

Hammond spoke up again. "This is the first time we've released a prisoner so soon after their intake date, not to mention the fact we're doing it in your own backyard.  Lay low, Miss Cabot.  Don't get anyone else killed."

Alex grinned and rose.  "Gentlemen, you can officially kiss my ass."  She placed her palms down on the table.  "Who's taking me to the airport?"

* * *

Alex knocked lightly on Olivia's door, setting the tiny bag the feds had given her at her feet.  She knocked again when she received no reply, and rested her palm on the door.  "Olivia?" she called.  Still no answer.  She looked up and down the hall for any sign of someone who might know where the brunette was.  She left her bag at the door and walked down to the manager's office.  She didn't recognize the man sitting at the desk, and breathed a silent sigh of relief.  She explained some sob story about how she was supposed to water the plants, but had left her keys in Jersey.  The man took her ID and handed her a spare.  Alex bounded up back to Olivia's apartment and opened the door, wedging her bag between the door and the jamb.  She returned the key to the manager and got her ID back.  She headed back upstairs when he disappeared into the back of the office and let herself into Olivia's apartment.

She set her bag in the bedroom and wandered around the once familiar surroundings, admiring the new leather couch and entertainment system.  The black and white picture Emma had taken of her in the mountains so many years ago was displayed prominently, alongside a photo of the entire squad at some kind of recognition dinner, and a picture of Emma and Olivia, with Emma holding a plaque.  She took the final photo down and stared at it.  It was a photo taken during Alex's absence; Emma's hair was much longer.  Alex sighed, replacing the photo.  She had missed so much in her travels, and she started to wonder seriously just how she was going to integrate herself back into everybody's lives.  How would Olivia react when she returned home, to find her exiled girlfriend sitting on her couch?

Alexandra wouldn't get her reply for forty-eight hours.  She scoured the apartment for any sign of where Olivia was, and she was extremely frustrated as the hours ticked by.  She couldn't really call anyone; no one but Elliot and Olivia knew she was alive.  She tried Elliot's cell phone, but he didn't pick up, and he didn't return the message.  She called Matt and Meredith for help, and they said they'd try and find out for her.  They, too, had come up with nothing.

* * *

"She was so hitting on me!" Olivia crowed as she pushed the door open.  "That little pulling-me-in thing?  Kissing my cheek?  Hel-lo."

"Under normal circumstances, I would say, yes, she was hitting on you.  But honey, she was a ho.  That negates any potential hitting on."  Emma laughed from behind the detective, wrapping an arm around Olivia's waist and squeezing.  "I'm sorry you didn't get any booty this weekend.  Do you feel better now?"

"I didn't want booty," Olivia denied quickly.  "I just want you to admit that the ho - "  She broke off as she turned and surveyed her living room.  A picture was missing from atop the entertainment center - one of her and Emma at Olivia's promotion ceremony - and the afghan wasn't draped over the back of the couch.  Raising a hand to silence Emma, and Amy, who was trailing them up the stairs, Olivia crouched down and unzipped her overnight bag silently, pulling out her service weapon.  Cocking the gun, she waved the girls back into the hall and inched toward the bedroom.  Maybe she'd gotten lucky and the burglar was still there, taking his time collecting her valuables, such that they were.

"Put on my blue suede shoes and boarded the plane," Alex sang softly, wrapping a towel around her head.  The weekend of silence had finally gotten to her, and she gathered up her courage to venture outside for a run.  Now, the sweat gone after a thorough shower, she stepped out of the tub onto new bathmats; it was clear Emma and Olivia had done some damage at Bed, Bath and Beyond.  She thought she heard something outside, and cracked the door open after pulling on Olivia's robe.

Olivia was on the other side of the door and when it swung open a bit, she raised one boot and kicked it open fully.  "NYPD!" she growled, before the scene registered.

The door hit Alex square in the forehead, and she stumbled backward, slamming her elbow into the countertop.  "Shit!" she yelled, squinting in pain.  "Jesus Christ!"

Realizing her mistake, Olivia set the gun on her nightstand and pushed the door open slowly, as it had swung back from the impact.  "Alex?" she murmured.  "What the hell?"

Alex raised her good arm to cover her throbbing forehead.  The towel on her head was askew, and Olivia's stolen bathrobe wasn't tied anymore.  "Surprise," she offered, still wincing.  She blinked a few times, waiting for Olivia to come into focus.  "I'm back." 

"Oh, my God," Olivia breathed.  She stepped into the steamy bathroom and rested a hand on Alex's hip.  The other hand went to the red welt on the blonde's forehead.  "I'm so sorry," the detective apologized, leaning forward to kiss the bump.  "I thought you were a burglar."

Alex laughed in spite of the pain.  "Honey, a burglar would have turned and left five minutes into ransacking your apartment.  Your Pez dispenser collection from Emma doesn't have that much street value."

"It does, too," Olivia protested, tears springing to her eyes, joining the happy grin.  She slid an arm around Alex's waist and held her close, nuzzling the blonde's neck.  "Welcome home," she whispered, allowing the tears to fall.

Alex melted into the embrace, kissing Olivia's neck.  "Thank you, baby."

"Olivia?" Emma's worried voice carried from the hallway.  

Olivia's head jerked up, cracking Alex's chin, and they both winced.  "All clear.  I'm in the bedroom."  She stepped away from Alex, gesturing toward her open robe.  "You might wanna close that.  We've got company."

Alex tightened the robe around her and followed Olivia out of the bathroom.

"Everything okay?" Emma was standing in the doorway, with Amy right behind her, carrying a frying pan.  Alex came into view then, and the younger blonde's mouth dropped open.  She started shaking instantly, and grabbed onto the doorjamb for support as her knees buckled.  She looked from her sister to Olivia.  "Liv?"  Amy set the pan on the floor and wrapped her arm around Emma's waist loosely for support.

Olivia's gaze shifted among the three women as she sighed.  "Emma, there's a lot you need to know, but I don't think any of it will make sense right now.  Suffice it to say that Alex has been in Witness Protection for nine months."  Olivia slipped closer to her partner and reached for her hand.  "She's not dead, obviously.  I'm sorry I couldn't tell you sooner."

Emma shook her head and blinked, her mouth moving as she fought to find the words.  "I...I don't get it," she replied helplessly.  "I don't understand."

Alex took a small step toward her sister.  "Emma," she said softly, "I had to go underground.  There were threats on my life, and I had to hide.  But it's safe again.  I came back."

Emma's face crumbled.  "You're alive."

Alex smiled.  "Yes, honey."

Emma looked past her, staring at Olivia.  "You knew."

"Yes," Olivia echoed softly.

"You knew, and you didn't tell me," Emma accused, gritting her teeth.

"Don't blame Olivia," Alex warned. 

"I'll blame whoever the hell I want to!" Emma exploded, breaking away from Amy's embrace.  "I buried you, Alexandra.  I grieved for you.  For nine months, I've had to rebuild my life.  I **thought **Olivia was going through the same thing, but she's just been laughing at me this whole time.  I never thought the two of you were capable of this." 

"Emma Katherine," Olivia snapped, "we did what we had to do to keep your sister alive.  Now you go ahead and be as angry as you want, but don't ever think we enjoyed this.  Alex has been through hell and back."  Stepping up, she rested a hand on Alex's back protectively.

Amy eyed Alex and Olivia suspiciously, her grip on Emma tightening.  She was sure they'd done what they had for the right reasons, but that didn't take away Emma's pain, and that was all the redhead was concerned with at the moment.

Emma shook her head.  "I can't do this right now.  I'm sorry.  I just can't."  She turned and looked at Amy.  "Can we go now?"

"Whatever you want, babe."  Amy followed Emma toward the door, and Olivia watched them go silently.

Alex sank onto the bed.  "Shit," she breathed.  "Well, at least she didn't hit me." 

"I'm sorry."  Olivia crouched between Alex's bent knees.  "If I'd known you were coming, I would've told her ahead of time."  She reached up to stroke Alex's cheek gently.  "She'll get over it."

Alex nodded.  "I didn't know myself, so I couldn't call.  They only let me go Friday.  Did you hear about Velez?"

"No, what happened?"  Olivia rose from her crouch to sit beside Alex.

"He's dead."  Alex allowed herself a smile.  "DEA and local police got tipped off, and he got caught in the crossfire.  That's why they let me out of the program."

Grinning widely, Olivia chuckled.  "It worked."  At Alex's inquiring glance, the detective simply shook her head, declaring the topic off-limits until more time had passed.  "Are you hungry?  When did you get here?"  She started peppering the blonde with questions.

"I got here about five on Friday night," Alex replied, rising from the bed and pulling on her jeans and a t-shirt she recognized as Emma's, one she'd obviously left at Olivia's during their many movie nights.  "I like what you've done with the place," she commented, pulling her hair up in a plastic clip.

"Thanks."  Olivia glanced around the once-white bedroom, now royal blue with cream and blonde wood accents.  "Emma's idea."  She wondered why they were so calm; shouldn't this time be filled with exclamations of delight, or tears, or something besides the familiar routine they'd developed over the years?

"Nice to know she's still channeling Vern Yip," Alex replied, resting a hand on her stomach.  She reached over to turn off the small CD player on Olivia's side table.  "So where were you guys this weekend?" she asked, folding the afghan she'd dragged in from the living room.

"We went up to the Adirondacks," Olivia replied, watching Alex carefully.  "Amy's granddad has a cabin up there, and they wanted to celebrate, so they dragged me along."

"Celebrate?" Alex raised a sculpted eyebrow.

"Their three month-iversary," Olivia explained.  "Do you remember when we used to celebrate crap like that?" she teased gently.

Alex laughed, sitting on the bed.  "Did we ever celebrate crap like that?  We were so up and down that I think I lost count."

"I just don't think it counts before a year," the detective chuckled.  "Three months is a drop in the bucket."

"True."  Alex shook her head.  "I never would have thought.  I've known Amy forever - never in a million years would I have thought they'd make a good pair." 

"Me, either.  But they seem happy, and Emma's out of my hair every other weekend."

"Always a bonus."  Alex looked over at the brunette.  "So." She trailed off, more nervous in that moment than she'd ever been before - at least where Olivia was concerned.

"So?" Olivia queried softly.  "You hungry?" she repeated her earlier question.

"I just ran four miles," Alex replied.  "And you're going to nullify it by feeding me decadent food, aren't you?"

"I can throw together a salad," Olivia offered, eager to please.  "Or some chicken.  Your call."

"I don't want you to have to go out of your way," Alex said with a shake of her head.  "We can order in.  I miss New York takeout."

"Alex, I really don't mind," Olivia countered, laying a hand on her shoulder.  "Believe me when I say that, at least for the next few weeks, anything you want, you get.  I'm just so glad to have you back."  Her shit-eating grin was tempered by the threat of tears.

Alex grinned and stood toe to toe with the brunette.  "I'm pretty damn happy to be back," she murmured, reaching out and resting a tentative hand on Olivia's hip.  "I could go for some barbecue chicken," she said, stepping to the side after a minute, and heading back toward the living room.

"I can do that," Olivia agreed, striding toward the kitchen.  "Since you're already showered, go ahead and relax, watch some TV or whatever."  She reached into the freezer and pulled out a package of chicken, setting the microwave to defrost it.  Assembling a salad in the big wooden bowl, Olivia found that she couldn't suppress a constant grin.  The idea that she could simply step into the next room and see - or touch - her girlfriend was a source of unimpeded joy.  As Olivia mixed a red wine vinaigrette she'd developed during many weekends with Emma, she started to whistle under her breath.  "Hey, Alex?" she called out after a few minutes.

"Yeah?" the blonde replied, muting the television.

"Just checking," Olivia replied with a chuckle.

Alex's laugh preceded her arrival into the kitchen.  She slid onto one of the stools at Olivia's island.  "Tell me this is a little surreal for you."

"A little?" Olivia countered.  "I keep wondering when I'm gonna wake up."

Alex chuckled.  "I feel like if I want too much, if I hope for too much, it's all going to crash down on me."

"I promise, it won't," Olivia said softly, slicing a cucumber.  "What could you hope for now?" she teased.  "You've got me."

"Well, isn't that the truth," Alex replied teasingly.  She fell silent, watching Olivia's graceful movements while preparing dinner.  "How long should we let Emma stew?" 

Olivia shrugged helplessly.  "As long as she needs, I think.  Maybe if she doesn't call us by Friday, we'll dangle Chinese takeout under her nose."

"So when did this whole Amy thing happen?" Alex queried, getting up and walking to the refrigerator, pulling out one of the bottles of water.  "And what do you think about that?"

"Can I have one, too?" Olivia requested.  "Amy happened right around your birthday.  Amy had asked her out, and that week was pretty tough for Emma.  I guess I wasn't receptive enough or something.  She was incommunicado for a couple of days and when she did finally come by, she had this huge grin and a hickey on her neck.  They've been inseparable ever since."

Alex pulled a second bottle out and handed it to the brunette.  "And we're happy about this?"

Olivia nodded.  "I am.  She seems really good for Emma, she doesn't have a record - unless you count a streaking charge from her freshman year, which I don't.  This bother you?" she asked carefully.

Alex sat back down at the counter.  "I don't know yet.  I've known Amy for ten years.  I always knew she and Emma were close, and that she's a great person.  I guess I'm just surprised Emma would go down that road again, after Shelby left the way she did.  But I guess as long as she's happy..." 

"I think Shelby had issues with the whole thing about Emma being a suspect in Caroline's death," Olivia clarified.  "I don't think that breakup had anything to do with Emma doubting her sexuality."

"Well, for her sake, I hope it works.  Any word on Caroline since I left?"

"They basically called it a draw and stuck her in the closed case box," Olivia informed Alex, slipping the pan of chicken into the oven.  "Dinner should be ready in about half an hour."

"Thanks.  I wonder who did it," Alex commented, mostly to herself.  "So what else have I missed in the months you and I didn't get to talk?" 

"Not a whole lot.  I learned to make cheesecake," Olivia said, turning the heat up on the oven as her stomach growled.  "Meredith and I got pretty tight in the last couple of months," she added.

"Really?" Alex's interest was piqued.  "How'd that happen?  You two probably never should have even spoken, let alone met." 

Olivia nodded.  "She came to see me when you went deep underground, brought me some of your stuff.  Speaking of which," she broke off and stepped into the bedroom, emerging with Alex's necklace clutched in one fist, which she'd had repaired during the blonde's absence.  "You want this back?"

Alex's face broke into a wide grin.  "I would love that back," she breathed, brushing her hair off the back of her neck.  "Fasten it on me?"

"With pleasure."  Olivia draped the necklace around Alex's slender neck and, with shaking hands, managed to fasten the small lobster-claw clasp.  "There," she said softly, running tender fingers over Alex's skin.  "All set."

Alex rested her hand on top of Olivia's.  "Thank you," she said, just as softly.  "Did you rip Meredith a new one when she came to see you?"

"Yeah, pretty much told her where to get off," Olivia chuckled, stepping back into the kitchen.  "But we...came to an understanding."

"I'm not even going to ask," Alex replied, taking another sip of her water.  "She's still breathing, so I'm guessing your understanding paid off."

"In more ways than one."  Olivia grinned at Alex.

Alex maintained the gaze for a minute, then looked down at the island countertop.  "The feebs set me up with a little place on Long Island.  Feel up to driving me out there so I can set up shop?"

"Sure.  That's gonna be a hell of a drive on Friday nights, though," Olivia complained lightly.  "Maybe you can spend the weekends here or something."

"Or maybe you could come out there with me," Alex hedged, gauging Olivia's reaction.  She wasn't sure where she and the detective stood; had the three months of non-communication stifled their relationship momentum at all?

Crouching down to peer into the oven, Olivia addressed the crispy chicken.  "Wasn't sure you'd want me to."

"Would you want to?"

"If you want me to."  Olivia straightened and eyed Alex seriously.  "That's a big commitment."

"I told you what I wanted in DC.  This is it for me, Olivia."  Alex played with the label on her bottle.  "I just don't know if your feelings changed while we weren't able to communicate; when I was really gone."

"Not a chance."  Olivia grinned at Alex over the counter.  "If you're sure you can handle me twenty-four seven, I'm all yours."

The blonde matched her grin.  "Really?" 

"Really.  How much is the rent at this new place?"

"Free, as long as I'm still partially underground.  Oh, how silly of me."  Alex held out her hand.  "Alexandra Allen.  Pleased to meet you."

Laughing, Olivia shook her head.  "I like it.  Not as musical as 'Alexandra Cabot', but it works.  Does this mean I'm gonna have to change my name?" she teased.  "Yanno, if we're gonna be married an' all of that," the detective added nonchalantly.

Alex's forehead crinkled.  "And what, pray tell, would make you think I'd marry you?"  The words were said teasingly, but the blonde's heart was racing.  They had never talked about anything permanent; hell, they'd barely talked about anything serious.  Alex searched the brown eyes she knew well, looking hard for understanding.

Olivia grinned.  "Well, the invitation to move in with you, for one.  And the jewelry."  She wiggled the fingers on her right hand, showing off the silver scrolled ring Alex had given her, years before.  "And the way you promised, in DC, that we'd be together forever," she finished quietly, her tone serious.  "But I'm just happy to have you back."

"Okay, all right, you win,"  Alex rolled her eyes playfully.  "You know I'd love it if you'd come with me.  I just didn't know if your feelings had changed any in the past few months."

"They haven't, and I'd love to," Olivia said, tugging the oven door open and donning an oven mitt to remove the pan of chicken.  "I can wait on the wedding," she said playfully.

"I never pegged you as someone who'd want a full wedding," Alex commented, moving behind the detective and pulling out some plates and utensils.

"I don't think I would, honestly," Olivia replied.  "Maybe a little ceremony, just friends and family.  But a **kickass** party," she enthused.  "Tons of people, lots of food, maybe a band."

"Emma could plan it," Alex suggested.  "If she gets over the heartbreak of losing you for good." 

"She's over me.  You've gotta see the way she looks at Amy to understand."  Olivia dished the chicken onto the plates and added a scoop of salad and dressing to each.  "I think she'd have a great time planning it.  Parties are really her deal."

"Maybe she and I could open a party planning business together.  She does all the dreaming, I'll take care of the logistics."  Alex took the plates and sat down at the new table in the breakfast nook.  "This looks great, babe," she said, cutting a piece of chicken and dunking it in the extra barbecue sauce Olivia had poured on her plate.

"You always drown the chicken," Olivia chuckled.  "I can't see you doing party planning.  You should start your own practice."

"I can't see myself doing anything other than prosecuting," Alex confided.  "Maybe a consulting thing.  The fibbies also mentioned something about teaching.  That kind of interested me."

"That could be cool.  Gold rims all the time."  Olivia grinned at the idea of Alex in glasses.  "You know, once you're allowed to come completely out of hiding, you could go back to prosecuting."

"It's a double-edged sword," Alex replied, taking a bite of salad.  "I love the law, and I know I could make a difference.  But given what happened with Velez, not to mention how desolate the cases were making me - I don't know if I could ever get myself back into that like when I first started." 

"Maybe it's time for something completely new," Olivia suggested.  "Politics?  You could be a Senator.  Or a lobbyist, for things like Megan's Law.  I could see you on Capitol Hill."

"You'd want to be a senator's wife?"  Alex smiled.  She shook her head and quirked her mouth in thought.  "I don't know.  I'm not that good at playing politic.  I like what I like, and I believe what I believe.  Making deals, compromises...that's not my style."

_I want to be **your wife.  Olivia surprised herself with the thought, countering aloud, "That's what lobbying's all about.  She speared a bite of salad.  "You fight for what you believe in and don't give up until you get it."**_

"I'll think about it.  Not much money in lobbying, though," Alex said, cutting another bite of her chicken.

Shrugging, Olivia replied, "We'd get by.  Do what makes you happy."

Alex reached out and covered Olivia's hand.  "This makes me happy," she said quietly, smiling the smile reserved only for the brunette.

"Me, too."  Olivia set her fork down and eyed the blonde.  "Did I really just get you back?" she asked softly.  "It seems like you never left."

Alex smiled.  "I did," she replied regretfully.  "I feel very different from nine months ago."

"How so?"

Alex shook her head, searching for the right words.  "California was...difficult," she started, resting her knife and fork on the edge of her plate.  "No contact, no freedom.  Nothing like PEI.  Just me and my thoughts.  They turned pretty depressed as the days dragged on."

"I'm sorry, Alex.  I wish I could've prevented it."

"There was nothing you could do," Alex replied with a shrug.  "I was so stupid to think they would let me out like that, let me talk to you.  I should have known it was a trap." 

"I should've known," Olivia insisted.  "I'm the detective.  Jesus..."  She shook her head, pushing her empty plate away.  "But it's over now."

Alex smiled.  "Yes, it is.  Thank God."  She wiped her mouth.  "So we have some major shopping to do, unless you prevented Emma from giving all my clothes away to Goodwill."

"Actually, I volunteered to clean out your apartment," Olivia said.  "So I've got most of the good stuff - your best suits, the silk blouses, and your favorite scarves.  I think she got rid of all your shoes and some of the older sweats and out-of-style suits.  But then, Emma thinks anything bought more than a month ago is out-of-style, so you might've lost a lot of good stuff.  Oh, and I saved the five turtlenecks I like best on you," she added with a chuckle.  "Various shades of cream and brown."

Alex chuckled.  "Shoe shopping it is, then.  Thanks for doing that for me.  It's nice knowing you took care of me even when I wasn't around to contest that I'm an adult and I didn't need your help."

Grinning, Olivia shrugged, collecting their dishes.  "I just gave myself a speech in my head, in your voice.  'Olivia Benson, I managed for thirty-odd years before I met you, I think I can take care of myself.'  Then I kissed your hallucination senseless and she shut up."

"Glad to know my hallucination's a smart woman," Alex replied, rising and helping Olivia load the dishwasher.  

"Thanks," Olivia said, taking the cups from Alex and setting them in the top rack.  "So, you wanna take the first batch of stuff out to the new house tomorrow, or wait 'till next weekend?"  The ever-organized detective began making plans for the move.

"We should probably go look at the space first, and then decide what goes and what stays.  I have no idea if they've furnished it or what," Alex replied.  "I can't believe we're actually doing this."

"Why not?  After five years, it's pretty normal to move in together."

"That's true.  But **us?  The most singular people on Earth?"**

"Maybe we're not so singular anymore," Olivia theorized.  "I know I feel more like a team now.  You know, the way I am with Elliot at work, that's how you and I are at home.  We make decisions together, we do what it takes to make it work."

"Very true."  Alex stepped toward the brunette, wrapping her arms around Olivia's middle from behind, and resting her chin on the detective's shoulder.  "You and me against the world, and Emma's tantrums." 

"Oh, I didn't tell you?" Olivia turned in Alex's embrace, grinning at the blonde.  "Amy's the first line of defense against Emma's whining.  We're just second-string now."

"I knew I liked that woman."  Alex slid her hand slightly under Olivia's shirt and rested it against her skin.  She searched the detective's eyes and took a slight breath before leaning in and taking the brunette's lips under her own.

Groaning softly as nine months of depression and loneliness were dismissed with one kiss, Olivia's hands found Alex's hips.  She returned the kiss, deepening it.  Her hands slid up the blonde's sides, tickling her gently, before coming to rest on Alex's cheeks.

The blonde smiled against Olivia's mouth, and she placed her hands on either side of Olivia's slender body, trapping the brunette against the counter.  Alex's tongue slid out from between her lips and teased Olivia's gently, her heart racing, but her body completely relaxed as her senses remembered how good it felt to do this.

Olivia's stomach clenched as she lost herself in the kiss.  When Alex broke away for breath, the detective murmured, "It's good to have you home."  She tightened her grip on Alex, lowering her mouth to the blonde's neck.

Alex curled her hand in Olivia's hair.  "It's good to be home," she replied breathlessly.  She held on to the counter as Olivia suckled beneath her ear, kissing down to her collarbone.  "You haven't lost your touch," the blonde squirmed, moving her hand to Olivia's waist, holding the brunette tightly against her. 

"God, I hope not," Olivia chuckled.  Moving her lips back to Alex's, she rocked her hips forward, thrilled by the simple contact of Alex's jeans against hers.

Alex shuddered slightly.  The rush of wetness brought on by Olivia's thrust nearly knocked her to her knees, but she held on to Olivia instead, sliding her hand fully up the brunette's shirt and resting it along the detective's spine.

Groaning softly, Olivia leaned back into Alex's touch.  Her hands slid back down to the blonde's hips, drawing her closer.  Her throat tightened, making breathing difficult, and Olivia let herself sink further into the kiss, secure in the knowledge that this time, there would be no beepers, no U.S. Marshals, nothing to interrupt them.

Alex released the brunette, and looked at her with swollen lips and heavy lids.  "Wanna go christen your duvet cover?"

* * *

She ran her hands over the blonde's still-sensitive skin, grinning when she giggled and swatted at the offending hands, murmuring, "Stop that," in the low, throaty voice that drove her insane.  She pushed stray blond strands out of her lover's eyes and dropped a kiss onto one porcelain cheek.  They lay quietly for a few minutes, basking in the afterglow, until she broke the silence.  "You want to talk about today?"

Emma's eyes remained closed as she sighed lightly.  "Let's talk about that tongue thing.  Where'd you learn that?"

"My mom."  Amy grinned as Emma's eyes flew open in shock.  "Stop changing the subject."

Emma sighed again, this time, a little heavier.  She played with Amy's fingers as they splayed over her stomach.  "I don't know what to think, Aim.  I haven't processed it yet.  Right now, it's massive confusion - I don't know whether to be happy or extremely angry with the two of them for lying to me for almost ten months."

"I'd go with happy," Amy volunteered, capturing Emma's fingers.  She rolled over to face the blonde fully, scrutinizing the face she'd come to know so well.  "I mean, I can see why you're angry, but at the end of the day, they did it protect Alex, right?"

Emma kept her eyes trained on their linked fingers, watching Amy's thumb work lightly over her knuckles.  "I guess so.  But how did Olivia know?  Why did she get to be in on the secret?  And why didn't she tell me?"  Emma finally turned her head to face her lover.  Her blue eyes shone with hurt and tears.  "You weren't there for the immediate aftermath, babe.  I was a wreck for three months.  Barely ate, barely slept, all because I was grieving.  She could have stopped that.  She promised she'd never hurt me, but she just kept letting me cry.  That hurts more than anything."

Amy's heart broke and she simply nodded, slipping her arm under Emma's head and pulling her in.  "In that case," she said after a long moment, "maybe you just need to call it a bad decision on Olivia's part and forgive her.  I don't think she intended to hurt you," Amy added softly.  "She loves you."  _More than I'd like.  "And that's all in the past, anyway.  Being mad won't fix it.  You'll just miss out on more time with Alex.  Is that what you want?" she asked gently._

"Of course not," Emma replied.  "I don't mean to make this all about me. I understand the position they were in.  But, for God's sake, would one little whisper have hurt anybody?  Two little words.  'She's alive'."  Emma sighed again, nestling onto Amy's shoulder and curling into the redhead's side.  "I know they think I would have gone on some wild goose chase to find her.  But if they just took the time to tell me the consequences...just knowing would have made it easier.  That's all I wanted.  Someone to tell me it was okay."

"I'm sorry," was all Amy could muster, squeezing Emma for all she was worth.  After a long pause, she added teasingly, "Would more nookie help?"

Emma laughed.  She kissed Amy's cheek, and closed her eyes again.  "You help.  That's all I need right now."  She paused, then opened one eye.  "Then again, I could use some Oreos." 

"Ooh, Oreos."  Amy leapt out of bed, returning a few minutes later with a giant bowl, a package of Oreos tucked under her arm and two glasses of cold milk in one hand.  "Bartending skills come in handy," she teased, setting the milk down easily and tossing the cookies to Emma.  "For crumbs," she explained, gesturing with the bowl.  "I refuse to sleep on Oreo crumbs."

"This is why I like you," Emma proclaimed, opening the bag in the bowl and fishing a few cookies out.  She watched as Amy arranged their milk on the bedside table and thought back on their history together.  They'd met during their freshman year of college, in a women's civ class.  The feisty redhead dominated their class discussions, with an opinion on everything and anything, half of which Emma knew nothing about.  They became fast friends at an AIDS awareness rally later that year, and had been almost inseparable since.

Amy had been the one to grill Mark when he came calling on Emma (the blonde later teased that the redhead needed to get her sociopath murderer radar tested), and had been the one to soothe Emma when the relationship originally didn't work out.  Emma was Amy's official quizzer and thesis reader as the redhead got her Master's at Columbia.  The two had a memorable road trip to southern California when Amy decided to go for her PhD at UCLA.  Amy came back when Mark died, and stayed when Emma opened her first restaurant.  The redhead was one of the only stable things in the blonde's life.  Emma had finally noticed that a few months after Alex left, had realized that Amy had all the qualities she needed in a partner.

The blonde twisted off the top of the Oreo and started eating the creme filling.  "You remember the first time I kissed you?" she asked with a teasing glint in her eye.

"Uhm...at the party?" Amy guessed, having absolutely no recollection of the event.  Her various exploits and adventures with Emma had long ago blended into one warm, fuzzy feeling in the bottom of her heart.

Emma laughed, placing the cookie halves of her Oreo in the bowl and pulling out another one so she could devour the middle.  "No, jackass," she teased.  "We were in the storeroom at Gables.  You were getting more of something - I don't remember what.  I was a little buzzed, and in the leather pants, remember?  So I was dancing around the storeroom, singing Evanescence, and you just laughed at me.  I turned to ask you what the hell you were laughing about, and nearly fell on my ass.  You caught me around the waist...and then I kissed you."  The blonde smiled again.  "You had absolutely no idea what the fuck was going on.  It was priceless." 

"My best friend - my *straight* best friend," Amy added, "was kissing me like Julia Roberts in 'Pretty Woman' when she finally realizes she's in love with Richard Gere.  How was I supposed to react?"  She grinned.  "So what was the party, then?  Oh, wait, I remember.  That was the first time...yeah."  Amy blushed, her cheeks burning as red as her hair.  "Mmhmm."

Emma laughed.  "Oh, yeah," she purred.  "That was a night to remember."  She cradled her head in her hands, and rested her elbow on her bent knee.  "Do you really think I'm overreacting with this whole Olivia/Alex thing?  Am I being a baby about this?"

Amy twisted a cookie apart and handed the creme-covered half to Emma, popping the cookie half into her mouth and chewing thoughtfully.  "No," she replied slowly.  "But I think you know that the grown-up thing to do is forgive them and move on."

Emma sighed.  "I'm so much better at being a spoiled brat, though.  Can't I do that instead?"

"You can if you want to," Amy grinned.  "You'll just have all three of us mad at you, and then who'll be left to spoil you?"

Emma batted her eyelashes.  "You'd never leave me, spoiled or not."

Conceding, Amy nodded with a shrug.  "What can I say?  I scored a hundred percent on the Masochistic Personality Test."

Emma laughed, handing her another cookie.  "You've hit the jackpot here, baby.  I mean, look at your past girlfriends.  Cindy, the one who thought a gable was a flock of geese.  Tiffani with an 'i', who needed open toed sandals to help her count..."  Emma shook her head and clucked her tongue.  "I saved you from your dating debacles.  You should be thanking me."

"You took me away from Maria," Amy objected with a grin.  "She had potential."

"The German weightlifter?  Please!" Emma scoffed.  "Anybody that looks like Hans and Frans on steroids is just way too scary and psychologically unhealthy.  You're a shrink; you should know that."

"That was Marta.  Maria was the Guatemalan exchange student - the cute one with the curly black hair.  The one you almost beat up for kissing me in public," Amy teased.  "I should've known then that you were interested."

"Oh," Emma drawled, remembering.  "You only liked her for her accent, anyway." 

Grinning, Amy popped another cookie in her mouth, shaking her head.  Swallowing, she replied, "I've got a thing for girls who can roll their Rs.  Sue me."

"You know," Emma said lowly, pushing the bowl away and turning on her side, resting her hand on Amy's lower stomach, "I could learn some Spanish, if you really wanted me to."

"Really?" Amy chuckled.  She rolled on her side and grinned at Emma.  "I like you the way you are."

Emma smiled, running her fingers through Amy's hair.  "I'm glad," was all she could say.  She was silent for a minute, pulling her lower lip into her mouth as she got pensive.  "I wonder what it was like for the two of them, being apart like that.  I mean, I can't even imagine if you and I were apart - what must it have been like for them?"

"Horrible," the redhead concluded succinctly.  "But from what you've told me, they've been through worse, right?"

Emma shrugged, causing the light sheet to slide off her chest slightly.  "They've seen their share of horrors, the worst of humanity."  She laughed then, tossing her hair over her shoulder with one flick of her head. "They really are two peas in a pod.  Perfect matches."

"Salt and pepper.  Oil and vinegar," Amy added.  "You and me."

Emma grinned, and leaned over to kiss the redhead.  "You said something about more nookie, right?"

Amy leaned back, shaking her head.  "On one condition."

Emma cocked her head.  "What's that?"

"Call Alex first thing tomorrow morning."

Emma sighed, but nodded.  "Deal."

"Nookie," Amy declared, rolling on top of Emma and grinning down at the blonde.

* * *

The next morning, Alex stretched as she rolled out of bed, but did so carefully enough so she didn't wake Olivia.  She smiled as her muscles screamed from overuse, and smiled wider as Olivia didn't stir.  They'd had a long night - best to let her lover sleep.  Alex slipped silently into the kitchen, shutting the bedroom door with a soft snick.  

She pulled on a pair of Olivia's mesh shorts and a t-shirt, putting her hair up in a ponytail.  She turned on CNN and half-listened as she percolated some coffee.  Her stomach rumbled, and Alex started pondering what kind of breakfast she'd like.  She pulled the loaf of cinnamon raisin bread out of the refrigerator to make toast, when she was struck by inspiration.  She hummed to herself as she gathered eggs, milk and a frying pan.  Meredith had taught her an easy recipe for French toast while they were in PEI together, and Alex grinned as she imagined the shocked look on Olivia's face when the brunette woke up and breakfast was made, with little or no damage to her apartment.

Alex had just started preparing the kitchen for breakfast when the phone rang.  She grabbed the receiver before it rang again - she'd hate to disturb Olivia.  "Hello?"

Emma shook her head, not surprised her sister answered the phone.  "Hey."

Alex smiled, cradling the phone between her ear and her shoulder.  "Hi there."

"You're up early."

"Couldn't sleep," Alex replied, dunking the pieces of bread in the egg.  "You're up fairly early as well."

"Amy believes in 'early to bed, early to rise'.  She's up every morning before seven.  It's starting to rub off."  Emma took her morning coffee and sat on the balcony.  "Olivia up yet?"

Alex leaned back and saw the still closed bedroom door. "I figure I'll wake her up in about an hour, she'll still get to work by nine."

Emma laughed heartily.  "Like she's going to work today, Al."

Alex smiled.  "Hang on a sec.  I have to find the cooking spray.  Did you two reorganize her kitchen?"

"It's to the right of the stove.  Second shelf.  Alexandra, are you cooking?"

"Yeah.  Making French toast."  Alex laughed, watching the bread thicken as it cooked.  "Don't sound so panicked, Em."

"Alexandra, please, I beg you.  Step away from the stove, and put down the spatula.  You shouldn't be doing this without any adult supervision.  I'll be over in fifteen."  Emma slid the glass door shut and put her coffee cup on the counter.

"Emma Katherine, you cut that out right now.  I can make breakfast without burning things down.  Most of the time."

Emma laughed.  "I have to drop something off for Olivia anyway.  I'll bring some sausage or something, okay?"

Alex smiled.  "See you in a few."  She disconnected and put the phone down on the counter, tending to her breakfast.

Emma slid her key into the lock, but knocked lightly as she arrived.  "Hey," she said softly, a strong pang of emotion bubbling up as she saw her sister gliding easily around Olivia's apartment, as if nothing had ever happened.

"Hi," Alex replied with a smile, putting foil on top of the finished toast.  "Coffee's fresh, if you want it."

Emma shook her head.  "Had my one cup for the day this morning, thanks."

Alex turned and raised her eyebrows.  "You're down to one a day?"

Emma shrugged, sitting at the counter.  "Amy," she explained simply.  She drank in the sight of her sister before her, and found her eyes welling with tears.  "So you're okay?  Really okay?"

Alex smiled gently and nodded.  "I'm fine, Emmy.  Really really."

"Where were you?  What happened?"  Emma shook her head.  "I have so many questions, Al."

"I know," Alex replied, taking a sip of her coffee.  "There were threats made against me," she started.  "They had to get me out of here and underground as quickly as possible, until the threat was gone."

"And the threat's gone now?"

Alex nodded.  "All taken care of.  Emma," she leaned in and touched her sister's hand, "I'm so sorry I couldn't tell you.  And I'm sorry for all the pain and hurt you've had to endure during my absence.  Believe me when I tell you that it's a decision I agonized over."

"I know these months couldn't have been easy for you," Emma began.  "And you have no idea how happy I am to have you back.  It's just...it's a little strange to hear I've been lied to.  An entire city has been lied to, Alexandra.  Things aren't the same; you're coming back to a very different environment."

Alex nodded.  "I know.  And it's going to take me some time to reintegrate.  But I have you, and I have Olivia.  That's all I need."

"How did she know you were alive?"

Alex took a deep breath.  "I contacted her before I went away," she replied.

Emma's face betrayed the pure hurt she felt.  "Why didn't you call me?"

"The Marshals never would have gone for it, Emma.  We didn't know if you were a target, too.  The men that threatened me, they made comments about Victoria.  If they could get to her, imagine what they could have done to you. I didn't know if they would go after you, too."

"But they had to know about your relationship with Olivia," Emma interjected.  "With everything that happened in the civil trial, everybody knew about you two."

Alex shrugged.  "It was a split-second decision, Em."

"Then why didn't *she* tell me?"

"I think she wanted to ensure your safety.  We also knew this wasn't going to be a permanent thing, but I wanted you to get on with your life as best you could, not sitting around on pins and needles waiting for me."  Alex squeezed Emma's hand before turning around to refill her coffee cup. 

"Are you two going to be okay?"

Alex turned around, brow furrowed.  "Why wouldn't we be?"

Emma shrugged.  "Nine months apart can be pretty taxing on relationships."

Alex smiled thinly.  "We...had some contact."

"You *talked* to her?  I didn't get to know, but you got to talk to her?"  Emma shook her head in disbelief.  "Good Lord, Alex."

"Look, Emma, I did what I had to do.  I'm sorry you're upset, and I'm sorry you're hurt.  But I refuse to apologize for anything beyond that.  You can be mad at me all you want, but don't blame Olivia.  Got it?"  

Emma drew her mouth into a tight line as Alexandra's no-nonsense ADA tone presented itself.  Finally, she sighed and motioned to the coffee maker.  "I need more of that."

Alex smiled.  "Help yourself.  I'm going to go see if I can rouse Sleeping Beauty."

Emma nodded and rose from the counter.  She stopped her sister with a hand on her arm.  "I really am glad you're back, and okay."

Alex smiled again.  "Me, too."  She patted Emma's shoulder and moved back into the bedroom, kneeling beside Olivia's side of the bed.  Her eyes raked over the beautiful woman before placing a gentle kiss on the brunette's forehead.  "Good morning," she whispered, stroking Olivia's arm.

Olivia muttered something inaudibly and swatted at Alex.

Alex laughed, moving her hand to the detective's hip.  "You'd best get up before I send Emma in here to jump on you."

Opening one eye, Olivia glared at her partner.  "You wouldn't."  She sniffed the air, opening the other eye.  "She's here already," the detective declared.  "I smell French toast."

"Well, yes, she's here, but I made the toast," Alex replied, turning on the bedside lamp.

"You cooked?" Olivia sat up, faking horror.  "Where's the fire department?  How much of the building is in flames?"

"They have it mostly contained," Alex replied.  "Just smoke and water damage at this point." 

"Jeez, I'll never be elected president of the condo association with you around," Olivia griped, climbing out of bed.  Glancing at the clock, she groaned softly.  "I shoulda been to work an hour ago."

"Olivia, it's barely seven fifteen!"  Alex started making the bed as the brunette headed into the bathroom.  "Besides, you needed to sleep after last night."  She winked, her voice turning seductive and low.

"Oh, Jesus," Emma commented, leaning in the doorway.  "She's been up three minutes, and already you're hitting on her.  So wrong, Al."

Alex shrugged.  "I was alone for nine months.  I'm allowed." 

"And is it really hitting on me if I'm enjoying it?"  Olivia grinned, slipping an arm around Alex's waist and pulling her in for a long kiss that made her insides ache.  "Fuck it," she answered her own question.  "I feel a cold coming on."  Olivia faked a cough.  "I'm staying home."

Emma groaned. "I'm hightailing it out of here before either one of you starts talking about how you're going to play doctor all day."  She leaned around the doorjamb and caught Olivia's eye. "Think you'll be feeling better later?"

"With enough attention from my nursemaid here," Olivia kissed Alex's neck quickly, "I should recover nicely."

"Seascape, seven o'clock?" Emma suggested.

Alex nodded as best she could.  "Sounds good to me."

"Fantastic," Olivia agreed.  "You're bringing the ball 'n chain, right?" 

Emma chuckled.  "Unless she wises up and leaves me before then, that's my plan.  Hope you feel better, Olivia," she said slyly, slipping out toward the front door.

"Take some toast!" Alex called after her, turning her attention fully back to Olivia as the front door closed behind her sister.  "So," she drawled, wrapping her arms around Olivia's neck, "where does it hurt?"

  
* * *

Olivia heard the shower start as she poured herself a glass of wine.  Sipping at the Cabernet, she slipped into the bedroom and surveyed her closet.  Olivia wanted to wear something nice for Alex's welcome-home dinner, something that would make the blonde smile - an outfit that came with a guarantee that it would end up in a heap next to her bed at the end of the night.

Rifling through the hangers, Olivia laughed at herself for being so femme, worrying about what to wear.  That didn't stop her from being extremely picky, though.  She finally settled on a pair of crisp black pants and a grey turtleneck with short sleeves.  Getting dressed quickly, Olivia slid her black boots on and settled in the living room, sipping her wine and flipping through the channels.  She knew from experience that she could be waiting a while.

Alex took her time, shaving her legs and washing her hair more than really necessary.  But her mindset was the same as Olivia's - she wanted to impress.  She stepped out of the shower and wrapped herself in the big cotton towel the brunette had set out for her.  She rubbed lotion onto her still damp skin and continued her routine - brushed her teeth, washed and moisturized her face.  Opening the bathroom door, she heard the television on and smiled; poor Olivia, having to deal with all this again.

Alex let the steam rush out of the bathroom and watched the fog on the mirror begin to dissipate.  Her hair remained tightly wrapped in a towel; she hoped the natural wave to her hair would curl if she left it like that for an extended period of time.  She pulled on a pair of black silk panties and the matching bra, reveling in the feeling as the lingerie slid against her skin.  She moved back into the bathroom and pulled the little black dress she'd purchased earlier in the day off its hanger.  She laughed to herself as she unzipped it and stepped into the dress, thinking of how Olivia had pleaded with her not to go, to stay in bed.  It was a lovely thought, but Alex wanted something fresh to wear to symbolize her fresh start after her absence.  So she'd walked down the block into a petite boutique and fell in love with the short dress.  It was more Emma than it was her, but it struck her as beautiful just the same.  Short and black with spaghetti straps, it had a blue overlay starting at the waist and ending at the hemline, just above her knee.  There were little butterflies hand sewn onto the overlay.  She'd also bought a much too expensive pair of black high heeled shoes, a pair she could never walk into a courtroom in. 

She dressed quickly after that and unwrapped her hair, running a little bit of mousse in it to hold the curl, and slipped a head band on to hold the stray wisps away from her face.  She finished the rest of her routine quickly, applying her makeup and perfume gently, but in good time.  Finally, the blonde stepped back and nodded to herself.  She stepped out of the bathroom, turning off the light.  "You ready?" she called, clicking into the hallway.

"Been ready for an hour," Olivia teased, turning the television off.  "What the heck were you..."  She trailed off as she caught sight of Alex in the hallway that served as a foyer in her little apartment.  "Sweet Mary, mother of god," Olivia breathed, a grin overtaking her mouth.  "You look amazing."

Alex chuckled.  "Sorry you had to wait," she apologized, advancing on the brunette and drawing a hand down her lover's side.  "You look great."

"No, I look like a schlub compared to you," Olivia chuckled breathlessly, hesitating to lay her hand on Alex's hip for fear she'd wrinkle something.  "Can we just stay home?" she teased.

"I have no problem with that," Alex replied, resting her cheek against Olivia's.  "However, you know the wrath of Emma.  She'll come looking for us, Amy or no Amy."

"Err...."  Olivia nodded sagely.  "Dinner it is," she agreed.  "Pencil me in for some serious snuggles later."

"Only snuggles?" Alex teased, kissing Olivia squarely on the mouth.  She slid her hand down and took the brunette's in hers.  "Let's go."

They arrived at the restaurant shortly thereafter, and Emma and Amy met them at the door.  "I reserved us a booth in the far back corner," Emma said after she kissed both women hello.  "Is that okay?"

Alex nodded.  "I think I'm going to excuse myself to the restroom first," she said as they made their way to the table.

Emma nodded, squeezing Amy's hand.  "I'm going to go with her.  Excuse me."

"Hey, chicky?" Amy said softly, as Emma turned to leave.  "Proud of you," she murmured.  As the two blondes disappeared from view, Amy followed Olivia quietly to the table and chose a seat.  "So…" she began nervously.  The two hadn't had much contact, and little-to-none without Emma's bouncy presence as a buffer.  "Bet you're glad Alex is back."  _Duh, Amy chided herself._

"Hell yes," Olivia said with a wide grin.  "How are you and Emma doing?" she asked casually, signaling a nearby waiter to come take their drink order.

Amy blushed and shrugged, playing with her napkin.  "We're fabulous," she acknowledged.  "At least, I think so.  She says so, but sometimes…well, you know Emma."

"Yeah, I do."  Olivia made a mental note to grill Emma after dinner.  The waiter finally approached and she ordered two glasses of the best Cabernet that Seascape carried, and gestured toward Amy.

"One pink zinfandel and a Diet Coke," she ordered easily.  "Thanks."

"You do understand you're running a huge risk here," Olivia deadpanned as the waiter turned and left.

Amy turned worried eyes toward the detective.  "What do you mean?"

"Pretty soon you'll be able to order food for her, then it'll be picking out her clothes, and then, when you've reached the last stages, you'll be like Alex and me, finishing each other's sentences."  Olivia couldn't help grinning.

Blushing deeper, Amy shook her head.  "One can only hope," she murmured.

Emma stood behind her sister, trying to find a tag on the dress.  "Will this fit me?" she asked, trying to follow Alex into the stall.

Alex turned and gave her sister the Cabot glare.  "Emma Katherine," she warned, and Emma backed off.  

"I'm just impressed, Alex," Emma said, readjusting her own outfit in the mirror.  "Did the feds send you to some personal growth seminars?  'How Not to Dress Like Judge Judy'?"

Alex's laugh echoed throughout the marble bathroom.  She reemerged and headed to wash her hands.  "I just wanted to look nice tonight, that's all."

Emma grinned at her sister. "You are so whipped.  It's hysterical."

Alex repeated the earlier look.  "Pot, kettle's on line one."

Emma scoffed.  "I am nothing like you in that arena, missy."

"Right."  Alex's tone was beyond disbelieving.  She gave herself a quick once-over in the mirror before heading back to the table.  She sat down next to Olivia, and watched as Emma slid in next to Amy.  The waiter had returned with their drinks, and after all four women were settled, Emma raised her wine glass.  "To my beloved sister.  Welcome home.  And if you ever pull any of this shit again, may I kill you cleanly, and get away with it." 

Olivia chuckled, sipping her wine.  She slid her hand under the table and found Alex's, lacing their fingers.  Alex ran her thumb over Olivia's fingers and rested their linked hands on her upper thigh.

The waiter returned to take their order, and after he left again, Emma set to the task of filling her sister in on the gossip from the nine months she was gone.  Alex was shocked to learn that Emma had actually had high tea with Victoria at the Ritz, but the younger Cabot quickly assured her sister that it was all a ploy for scones.  As the evening and the laughter continued, Emma found herself almost forgetting that her sister had ever been gone.  Alex, on the other hand, started to fully understand just how much she had missed in her absence.  She slid her hand back onto Olivia's leg, seeking comfort in the connection.

Olivia grasped Alex's hand and squeezed gently.  When the dishes were cleared and coffee was poured, Olivia leaned in and eyed Emma seriously.  "So, when can I expect a niece or nephew?" she teased.

Emma burst out laughing, clutching her sides as she laughed.  "Oh, Liv," she sputtered.  "We've only been going out three months," she said after calming down.  "You two are way higher on the kidlet list than we are."

"Oh, no."  Olivia held up a hand to stave off the discussion.  "Not a chance."

"Come on, you two would be great parents," Emma continued.  "That kid would be the most verbose child on Earth.  Not to mention his collection of black suits."

"Emma," Olivia said warningly, feeling Alex's grip tighten on her fingers, "let it go."

"All right," Emma replied.  "Guess who called me today."

"Who?" Alex asked, stirring her coffee.

"George Huang.  He and his partner are celebrating their bizillionth year anniversary, and they want a party.  More importantly, they want *me* to plan the party."  Emma grinned proudly.

"Five years," Olivia corrected.  "And did you remind him that you're crazy and will spend all his money?"

"The lemon law doesn't apply to people," Emma replied swiftly.  "I don't need to let him know in advance that I'm defective."

"So what's your plan for this party, babe?" Amy asked, having only heard the barest of details so far.  "And can you hook a poor bartender up with some extra work for it?"

"I haven't really decided yet," Emma replied thoughtfully.  "It's going to be the last week of August, so I was thinking something end of summer-esque.  But I'm going to sleep on it and do some sketching."  She wrapped her arm around Amy, resting her hand on the redhead's back.  "And of course you can come be my bitch, sweetie."

"Only if you pay me," Amy grinned.  "I do it for free enough."

"True," Emma grinned back.  "You're just so good at it."

Alex chuckled.  "Just remember who you're planning this party for, Em.  Them, not you.  They don't need pole dancers or strobe lights."

"Alex, I'm offended," the younger blonde replied.  "George and his partner are so totally toga party people." 

Olivia chuckled heartily.  "I can see Huang in a toga.  Not a pretty picture."

Emma grimaced and shook her head.  "No, I definitely know what kind of feel I want for them.  Understated, but elegant.  A little bit of formality, but a little bit of fun, too.  Definitely quiet, but with enough pop to remind people it's a party, not a funeral."

Alex nodded, impressed.  "That sounds great, Emma.  Will you have enough time between the restaurants to actually do it?"

Emma nodded.  "Without a doubt.  The only hands-on restaurant I'm in right now is Gables.  Everything else is covered by the other partners."

"Yeah," Amy nodded.  "It's almost not worth going to work anymore, since Emma's not there."  She grinned at the blonde.

"Aw.  Aren't you codependent," Emma teased, taking Amy's face in her hands.  "So, Allie, have you decided anything about work?"

Alex shook her head.  "Nothing concrete.  I know my position in SVU has been filled," she squeezed Olivia's knee, "but I'm trying to decide if I want to go into the private sector, or find something completely new.  Olivia thinks I should run for mayor or something."

"I think she should run for Congress," Olivia corrected with a smile.  "Or become a lobbyist or something."

Emma nodded.  "I think you'd be great at that, Alex!  Fighting for something you believe in - nobody does that like you do."

Alex smiled.  "Well, thank you, honey.  I don't know what cause I'd lobby, though, or even where to start."

Amy waited a moment before speaking up, a hint of nerves in her voice revealing that she was at least slightly intimidated by her girlfriend's older sister.  "If you're serious, we could use some help.  I work with the Office of GLBT affairs at NYU," she added belatedly.  "They refer kids to me who need counseling, or sometimes just a resource for queer youth programs - support groups, that kind of thing.  The office handles most of the referrals for social activities and passes the mental health quotient on to me," Amy said, giving them the standard spiel.  "It's not exactly lobbying, but sometimes our kids need legal advice or representation, and surprisingly, there aren't a lot of experienced GLBT attorneys willing to take these cases on - at least, not at a rate the kids can afford."

"Ooh," Emma breathed.  "Do that!"

Alex shook her head at her sister's enthusiasm, but looked at Amy.  "I don't have much specialized experience," she said.  "But I could check it out."

"All it takes is access to Lexis-Nexis, some law books and a whole lot of patience," Amy replied quickly.  "I'm not trying to force the idea on you, I just know someone in particular who could really use the help right now."

Alex nodded.  "Sure.  Set it up, let me know when you want me to come down there."

"Tomorrow?"

"Sure," Alex agreed.  "One o'clock?"

"Fabulous."  Amy grinned, some of her nervousness dissipating.  She reached down and dug through Emma's purse, coming up with a pen and an old receipt.  "Here's the address and phone number of what I laughingly deem my office.  Call me if you have any trouble finding it."

"Will do."  Alex slid the paper into her purse and smiled at Amy. 

"Speaking of jobs," Emma said, arching her back in a stretch, "some of us have to get up in the morning."  She signaled the waiter and handed him her credit card.  "You want to set something up for this weekend?"

"Set something up?" Olivia teased.  "I thought we'd do it the same as always.  You'll show up when you damn well feel like it and expect us to drop everything to cater to you.  If it ain't broke, don't fix it."

Emma's mouth dropped open before she tightened her lips in her 'mad' face.  "Hey, I was just respecting your personal booty space.  Lord knows I don't want to have to walk in on the two of you doing the nasty."

"Then knock," Amy quipped.

"Fine," Emma replied. "I'll just continue to be the bane of your existence, be that little face peering into the window."

Alex winked at her sister.  "You're so good at it, Em."

Emma stuck her tongue out at the older blonde.  "Go get laid."  She signed the check and stood, holding her hand out slightly for Amy.

Standing, Amy took Emma's hand and followed her out of the restaurant.  "Night, ladies," she called.

"Bye," Alex called, taking one final sip of her coffee.  "So," she began, turning to Olivia and running the tip of her shoe underneath the detective's pant leg. 

"So," Olivia replied, "looks like you've got a new job."

"For the time being, anyway," Alex said with a smile.  "I have a feeling it won't pay too much, so I may need to find something else as well."

Olivia shook her head.  "Like I said before, we'll be fine on my salary.  Whatever you bring in will help, but find something you love as much as being an ADA and we'll work it out, okay?"

Alex grinned and leaned in for a kiss.  "You spoil me," she accused, gathering up her purse and rising from the table.

"That's my job."

The blonde chuckled as they left the restaurant, and she looked up as the lights of the city illuminated their walk.  "It still feels so strange to be back," she confided softly, slipping her arm around the brunette's waist.  "I don't think it'll sink in for a good while."

Olivia slung an arm over Alex's shoulders and squeezed gently.  "Probably not until you can be yourself again," she agreed.  "Are you gonna re-introduce yourself to Cragen?"

"Probably," Alex replied.  "I should let the squad know, at least.  I just wish I knew how far I could out myself.  I still have to stay under for a little while, but I don't have anyone babysitting me, telling me how to keep myself and my family safe.  I want to tell everyone, but I don't want to jeopardize them in the process."

"I don't think they'd let you out if you were in any real danger," Olivia voiced her opinion, wondering if she truly believed that.  In all likelihood, the DEA had set up the shooting that had injured Alex in the first place, then they'd used her as bait to entrap Velez.  Would they hesitate to use her again?  Probably not, but for what purpose?  Olivia didn't know, and for once, decided to give them the benefit of the doubt.  "Maybe you start with the squad, and Erin, see how it goes."

Alex breathed in the summer heat.  "One step at a time."  They walked in companionable silence for a few more blocks before reaching Olivia's apartment.  Alex slipped her heels off with a loud groan and put her purse on the counter.  She slid the headband off her head and ran a hand through her wavy hair. "Tonight went well," she commented, going to the fridge and pulling out two bottles of water.

Olivia concurred.  "Better than I expected.  I think Amy had a little talk with Emma, 'cause she seemed really at ease with all of this."

Alex chuckled.  "I bet you that talk was a knock-out, drag-down fight that Amy only won with the promise of snuggles and nookie."

"Well, Emma does get her temperament from you," Olivia replied playfully, "and that's what it takes for me to win."

Alex laughed.  "True enough."  She slid across the floor and took the brunette in her arms.  "I love you," she whispered, resting her lips against the detective's.

"I love you, too."  Olivia was surprised by the sudden declaration.  "Where'd that come from?"

Alex cocked her head.  "I need a reason to tell you I love you?" 

"You used to."

Alex made a noise in the back of her throat.  "Not anymore," she replied softly.  "So many things have changed for me in these nine months.  My perspectives, my relationships with other people, my goals and hopes.  But you," she squeezed the detective a little harder, "you're my constant. The one thing that makes sense for me.  Most of the time," she teased with a wink.  "Since DC, I just feel more at ease with myself and with us.  I know we're not the most openly declarative people in the world, but I like hearing myself say those words, and feeling the way I do when I say them, especially to you."

Blushing, Olivia could do no more than shrug, and hug Alex tightly.

Alex kissed underneath the brunette's ear.  "Let's go to bed before we're consumed by the mush monster, huh?" 

Shivering, Olivia nodded agreement.  She flicked off the hall light and followed Alex into the bedroom.  Stripping quickly, she fell into bed and waited for the blonde to complete her nightly ritual.  Olivia watched her through the open bathroom door, marveling at how natural and right everything felt, even after nine months of separation.

Ritualistic to the nth degree, Alex hummed to herself as she washed her face, brushed her teeth and pulled her hair back in a ponytail.  She slipped a light blue nightie over her head and finally shut off the light.  She smiled at Olivia, already in bed, and took off her glasses, sliding across the sheets to snuggle her partner.   

Curling into Alex, Olivia had a Cheshire Cat-like grin, invisible in the sudden darkness.  "Alex," she said softly.  "We need to talk."

"What's up?" Alex asked, raising her head in an attempt to look Olivia in the eye.

Taking Alex's hand in hers, Olivia began, "I've been thinking - mostly while you were gone, but a lot in the last couple of days.  And...I think..." she hesitated, glancing down at their joined fingers.  "I want us to be legal, as much as possible.  You didn't seem too keen on it yesterday, but I think - I hope - that's because you thought I was kidding.  I wasn't."  Olivia looked up as her eyes adjusted to the watery moonlight filtering in through the blinds, straight into the piercing blue of Alex's eyes.  "Take your time and think about it.  I don't need an answer right away, and you don't have to do anything you're not ready for," the detective rushed on.  "Just think about it."

Alex cocked her head, silent for a long minute, unable to speak until her heart rate returned to normal.  "Did you just propose to me?"

"I think so.  I guess...yeah.  Yeah, I did."

Alex laughed, more shocked than amused.  "Good Lord.  And you meant to?"

Laughing along with her, Olivia nodded.  "Seems so.  Uhm, is this a no?"

"Of course not."  Alex wrapped her arm around the brunette.  "I would love to, Olivia.  So this is a yes."

A lump formed in Olivia's throat and she just grinned in delight.  "I think this is probably just my way of ensuring that next time you're forced into the witness protection program, they'll let me go with you," she chuckled.

A full-fledged laugh bubbled from Alex's belly.  "Anything to play with the fibbies, huh, baby?"

"That's it exactly."  Olivia leaned forward, kissing Alex thoroughly.  "We should probably wait until you get your real identity back.  It'd be real hard convincing people to come to the wedding if they still think you're dead."

Alex laughed again.  "True point."  She grinned at Olivia, shaking her head.  "Just when I think I've figured you out..."

"Oh, you have," Olivia protested.  "I'm an easy read - whatever'll make you happy."

The blonde kissed the brunette hard.  "I'm very, very happy, Detective Benson."

THE END


	19. Grace

Emma stood in the center of the room, ticking each element off her mental checklist. "Lemonade stand, check. String quartet, check. S'mores station, check." She licked remnants of her taste test off her fingers.  
  
It had struck her in the middle of the night - a hot, sticky July night when Amy's air conditioning was broken again. "A garden party!" she'd exclaimed, sitting up so fast she'd smashed her head against the headboard. Since then, she'd planned an elaborate evening of relaxation as the end of summer drew near. The windows of Renew were fully bare, letting the late August sun drift in. There were light linens everywhere, and fans breezed through the restaurant, rustling guests' hair. Umbrellas and chaises had been moved in, and Emma wiped an invisible speck of dirt off one - invisible to everyone but her perfectionist eye. Finally, she sighed and sat down. Her work was complete.  
  
It had been almost three months since Alexandra's homecoming. Her sister was integrating herself back in to people's lives without much hoopla. It had taken a lot of explaining - and a few wine spritzers when it came to Erin - but Alex's inner sanctum was back. Alex and Olivia were tighter than ever, and Emma always got a huge grin on her face when she saw the simple diamond band on Alex's left hand.  
  
For both Cabot sisters, things were finally looking up.  
  
As if to drive that point home, Amy slipped up and snaked her arm around Emma's waist, surprising the blonde. "Boo," the redhead murmured in her ear.  
  
Emma jumped slightly, and tilted her head back. "Don't make me stain this outfit," she warned, motioning to her white lace dress. "I've made it ten minutes without making a mess; I'm going for the Emma world record."  
  
"Of half an hour?" Amy teased, lifting the glass of bright red punch out of Emma's hand and swiping a sip. "You should be drinking water with that dress, you're tempting fate." She glanced around the room, handing Emma her cup. "It looks fantastic, Em. George and Chris are gonna love it."  
  
Emma sighed. "I hope so. Oh, hang on." She strode over to one of the small flower arrangements and adjusted the display of salmon roses. "Okay." She turned around and couldn't help but grin at her lover, who stood shaking her head. "I just want it to be perfect," she offered in shy explanation, walking back to Amy, her white sandals clicking with each step.  
  
"It is perfect, baby," Amy insisted, her eyes trailing over Emma's pure-white outfit. "Trust me, everything will be great. Now," she said, clearing her throat, "I've been deprived of Emma-kisses for four days while you've been finalizing these plans." She tilted her head invitingly. "You owe me."  
  
Emma's face split into a wide grin and she sidled up next to the redhead, wrapping her arms around her girlfriend's waist. "I do have an office here," she reminded Amy, touching her lips to the redhead's in a butterfly kiss.  
  
Amy slid her arms around Emma's neck, standing on tiptoe to meet the blonde's lips. "Nah, guests'll be here any minute. Just kiss me." They were engaged in a full-on kiss when Olivia cleared her throat from the doorway. Amy jerked away and turned her head, grinning as she saw the detective - a grin that was just a sliver of embarrassment, but mostly wicked pride.  
  
"Don't let us interrupt," Alex teased, sliding her cardigan off to reveal a light pink Banana Republic dress. "The other hundred or so guests won't mind if you make out in the entryway."  
  
Emma rolled her eyes and kissed her sisters hello. "Like I haven't caught you kissing your girlfriend before," she replied, but winked at Olivia.  
  
Alex looked around the transformed restaurant, her mouth slightly open in amazement. The details were impeccable; jars had been mounted to the walls, with little yellow lights inside, made to look like fireflies. "Wow, Emma," she breathed. "This looks remarkable."  
  
Emma curled her arm around Amy and smiled proudly. "Thanks. I just hope the guests of honor like it."  
  
"They're gonna love it," Olivia echoed Amy's sentiment, as the redhead squeezed her girlfriend with an I-told-you-so grin.  
  
Other guests began filtering in as the foursome stood in the center of the room chatting, and soon, Amy had to excuse herself. "Better set up shop," she said, gesturing toward the bar. "Drinks won't pour themselves."  
  
The bar had been transformed into a child's lemonade stand, with planks of plywood covering the mahogany wood. Bottles of liquor had been exiled to the storeroom in favor of sweet liqueurs, daiquiri mixes and, of course, lemonade - some mixed with a variety of fruity flavors, like strawberry, watermelon and lime. Amy slid behind the bar and donned a plain white apron over her white board shorts. Her light blue tank top rode up, baring her stomach to Emma's appraising eyes as Amy tucked her hair into a messy braid. The redhead blushed and wiggled her fingers in a quick acknowledgement of Emma's gaze.  
  
Emma drew her lip under her front teeth in a girlish grin. She waved back, and turned as Chris and George walked through the front door, to a rousing round of applause.  
  
She gave the men two big hugs and an even bigger Cabot smile as Chris' green eyes floated over the scene. "Goodness gracious, Emma. This is beautiful."  
  
Emma squeezed his hand. "Only the best for you guys. I hope you like it."   
  
"I don't know about him," George gestured to his partner with a grin, "but I love it."  
  
"Good." Emma smiled again and stepped aside. "Enjoy your party."  
  
As her younger sister fluttered about, making sure the details remained perfect, Alex sat comfortably on a chaise, long legs crossed, and holding a glass of lemonade. She watched as familiar faces floated around her. Most of the guests had already heard that she was back, she was sure, thanks to scuttlebutt, and she was grateful the double takes were few and far between. She played with the curled, white gold and diamond band on her left hand, and let her eyes float over to Olivia, who was standing next to Fin and Munch, laughing as the two men argued over how best to roast a marshmallow for s'mores.  
  
The hair on the back of her neck shot up and Olivia turned discreetly, winking at Alex from across the room. The detective's eyes floated from her girlfriend - Or was that fiancée now? she wondered idly - to the almost-matching ring on her own left hand.  
  
Alex smiled and raised her glass in a salute. She looked up when she felt a hand on her shoulder, and her smile persisted as Cragen found a seat next to her.  
  
"You look good," he commented, taking a sip of his club soda.  
  
Alexandra smiled. "I feel good."  
  
They sat in companionable silence before Cragen motioned to her left hand after Alex took another sip of her drink. "That's new."  
  
Alex nodded, slightly embarrassed. After she offered no explanation, and he had taken another drink, Cragen rose and kissed the top of the blonde's head. "Good to have you back, kid."  
  
He walked over to Olivia and picked one of the tea sandwiches off the silver platters spread over the buffet tables. "You feeling okay?"  
  
"Feel great, actually," Olivia replied, more enthused than technically necessary. "You?"  
  
"I'm fine. Concerned about your mental health, though," Cragen joked gruffly. "I saw the rings."  
  
Swallowing thickly, Olivia was hard pressed to hide her beatific smile under a thin-lipped grin, but she did. "Yeah, well, what can I say? She makes me happy." She paused for the barest moment. "Or she spiked my drink. Either way, it's golden."  
  
Cragen chuckled. "Lots of luck, then. You'll need it."  
  
"I have it," Olivia replied with a sincere grin. "She came back, didn't she?"  
  
"True enough," Cragen agreed. "I think I'm gonna go find the little one, say my goodbyes. See you on Monday."  
  
"See ya, Cap."  
  
Cragen bid farewell to his detectives and to Emma and headed out into the humid evening. As he waved a few bugs away from his face, he stood outside the restaurant and took stock of the evening. Movement in his left periphery caught his attention, and he turned quickly, watching the shadow, which his brain quickly told him was a figure, duck behind the alley next to Emma's space. His hand went to his gun and he slid into the alley. It was a dead end, with only a dumpster and a chain link fence. He drew his gun and crept around the corner. "NYPD!" he hollered. "Come out slowly, hands up."  
  
"Good evening, Captain Cragen," came the soft reply. The figure turned, in slow motion, until they were face-to-face. "It's been a while. How are the girls?"  
  
Cragen kept his finger near the trigger. "You son of a bitch. What the hell are you doing out of Attica?"  
  
"Released on my own recognizance." Peter Kelleher smirked at the other man. "Just kills you, doesn't it?" he slithered, "when lawyers don't do their jobs?"  
  
"You were RORed?" Cragen sniped. "What's next, Manson teaching preschool?" He motioned to the wall with his gun. "You still have a protection order in place against you, smart ass. You're supposed stay two hundred yards away from Emma, which you obviously aren't. Up against the wall."  
  
"Now, honestly, Donald," Peter tsked, shaking his head, "I don't see Emma anywhere near this alley. I was merely taking a walk down one of this city's lovely side streets. How was I to know any of you were nearby?"  
  
"Up against the wall," Cragen seethed, grabbing Peter by his shirt and shoving him against the side of the building. He buried the muzzle of the gun in Kelleher's back and whispered in his ear. "You come anywhere near either of them, I'll shoot you like the dog you are. You got me, you piece of shit?"  
  
The smirk was evident in Peter's voice when he replied calmly, "Police brutality, Don. Watch where you touch me, or I'll have you locked up with the scum you loathe."  
  
"I could put you down in the middle of Times Square and they'd throw me a parade," Cragen replied, but released him nonetheless. "Look, Kelleher, I don't know what kind of rabbit you pulled out of your hat to get paroled or RORed. I don't give a flying fuck. But you'd better get one thing through that pissy little head of yours. An entire city of cops will know by sunrise that you're out. You will become our number one priority, and no one - no one," he gritted his teeth, "will flinch when it comes to putting you six feet under. You so much as think about those girls inside, your ass is mine."  
  
"You're such an angry, bitter little man, Mister Cragen. Get therapy." Peter strode past him, the smirk lingering on his lips.  
  
Cragen followed him out of the alley and made sure he headed away from the restaurant. He pulled out his cell phone and dialed the district attorney's home number angrily, demanding an explanation. He stood in the street, barely containing his fury as he got his answers. Finally, shoulders bent as the weight of the truth sank in, he returned to the restaurant, catching Alexandra's eye as he walked in the door.  
  
Cragen motioned to her to follow him as he moved past the bar. He tapped Olivia on the shoulder and guided her to the back of the restaurant.  
  
"What's going on?" Alex asked after they came to a stop.  
  
"Kelleher's out," Cragen replied. "His appeal was granted, and he's got some friends upstate. They RORed him this morning. He was hanging around out front."  
  
"You're fucking kidding me!" Olivia seethed quietly, glancing toward the front door. "Is he still there? I swear to God, I'll kill him bare-handed."  
  
"I sent him on his way. But you need to take Emma down to Centre Street tomorrow and file for a violation of the CPO." Cragen risked a look at Alex, who was as white as a sheet.   
  
"Clinton's on the bench tomorrow," the blonde finally replied. "She'll issue a warrant without much issue. God damn it. How?"  
  
Cragen shook his head. "Jury instructions or some such bullshit."  
  
Alex ran a hand through her hair. "What do we tell Emma?"  
  
Cragen raised his shoulders in a partial shrug. "I'll start a 24-hour guard on her. He's not scared of anything right now. He's gonna try something the first chance he gets."  
  
"And I'll shoot him where he stands," Olivia declared, reaching for Alex's hand. "I'll take Emma downtown first thing in the morning. I'd suggest we wait to tell Emma until after the party," the detective added, "but with the whole witness protection thing, she'll be more upset if we lie to her."  
  
"She's going to have to clean up. We'll grab Amy and sit them both down after everyone leaves," Alex replied. "Jesus Christ, I can't believe this."  
  
Cragen squeezed her shoulder. "I'm going to go make the arrangements, grab some of the duty officers to start the guard. Call me if you need me." He looked Olivia dead in the eye. "He comes anywhere near you, do what's necessary."  
  
"Yessir." When he'd gone, Olivia turned to Alex. "We have to tell her now. Emma and I are already on shaky ground, and I don't want to break what little trust she has left in me."  
  
"All right," Alex relented. "You grab Amy, I'll get Em."  
  
Nodding, Olivia split off and gestured toward the redhead, who was tending bar. "Amy, take a break. We need to talk."  
  
Alex smiled a polite hello to some guests and guided Emma by the elbow. "I need to talk to you."  
  
Emma followed her sister to the back office, where Amy and Olivia were already waiting. "Guys, I have to get the petit fours out," she said after the four were settled. "What's going on?"   
  
"Peter's been released and he's in the city," Olivia answered bluntly. "Cragen put a twenty-four hour guard on your apartment and you'll have a patrol car following you at all times, too. The plan is for you and me to go down to the courthouse tomorrow and file for a violation of the protection order." The brunette watched Emma with a practiced eye, sparing a fraction of her attention for the stunned redhead holding Emma's hand.  
  
"What?" Emma screamed, her mouth dropping open. "Allie...what?"  
  
Alex reached out for her younger sister, taking in the woman's disbelief and meshing it with her own. "The basis of Caroline's appeal, as I remember it, was that the jury should have been instructed that they could have found him guilty on lesser charges. The appeal was granted, and the issuing judge released him pending the new trial date."  
  
"And they can do that? Jesus Christ, how many times are they going to fuck me up the ass?" Emma sank onto the edge of her desk.   
  
"Emmy, I wish I had an explanation for you. But the fact of the matter is, Peter's back. He knows where you are, and he wants some piece of you. You just have to get back into survival mode. Olivia and I are going to do everything we can to protect you and get you through this, okay?" Alex squeezed her sister's hand. "You are so much more prepared for this than the first time around. You're the strongest person I've ever met."  
  
Emma took a deep breath and rubbed her eyes. "Can I have a minute?"  
  
Alex nodded and rose. "Olivia and I will put the food out for you."  
  
Olivia stood in silence, feeling awful that she had to be the bearer of such news, but resolute that this was Peter's last stand. She followed Alex out.  
  
Amy glanced at Emma. "You want some time to process?" she asked. "I can go back to the bar."  
  
Emma dissolved into tears, shaking her head vehemently. "Stay."  
  
"Okay," Amy agreed immediately, sliding her arms around Emma's waist. "I'm here," she murmured, her eyes misting as she looked up at her girlfriend.  
  
Emma let herself cry a little and then just rested her head on Amy's shoulder. "I really want him to try something. I'd love to feel his neck snap under my hands."   
  
Stifling a comment about self-destructive behavior, Amy just murmured agreement. Her hands smoothed the fabric of Emma's lace dress against her back in slow circles.  
  
Emma straightened and wiped her eyes, swiping a Kleenex out of the box on the corner of her desk. "He's really gonna kill me this time, babe."  
  
"Hell, no," Amy threw back. "None of us will let it get that far."  
  
"All it takes is a split second," Emma countered. "One false move, one tiny fraction of an instant. It's all out of our control."  
  
"No, it's not," Amy insisted, her eyes watering. "After everything you've been through, you're gonna give up because of a threat?"  
  
"Amy, don't you get it? He's not scared anymore. He's got nothing to lose." Emma sniffled, discarding the tissue in the trashcan. "Alex and Olivia are terrified. They won't say it, but I saw it in their eyes. He's a bigger threat now than he's ever been."  
  
"I don't care." Amy didn't notice the tears slipping down her cheeks as she protested. "Once you give up, he's won."  
  
Emma reached out to the redhead and rested her hands on her lover's hips. "I don't want you involved," she said sternly. "I want you to walk away."   
  
Amy stared at Emma for the longest time, before shaking her head. "You're insane. I'm not going anywhere."  
  
"Amy, I don't want you hurt," Emma pleaded. "Just...go to the cabin for a few weeks. Go see your mom in California. Anything. Just get away from this."  
  
"No," Amy insisted, her eyes widening. "I'm not leaving you."  
  
"He could come after you. Are you willing to die for this shit?"   
  
"'This shit' is you, Em," Amy said, swallowing around the lump in her throat.  
  
"I am not worth your life, Amy," Emma replied through gritted teeth. "I can't bear to think what could happen to you. Please don't do this."   
  
"Jesus," Amy breathed, shaking her head in amazement, "you actually believe that, don't you? Emma, the last thing you need right now is for me to abandon you," she continued, her voice strained, "whether you'll admit that or not. Frankly, I think it's time you and I admitted a couple of things," she added softly, tightening her grip on the blonde and staring up into Emma's eyes fearlessly.  
  
That knocked the winds out of Emma's churning sails. "Like what?"   
  
Amy's mouth turned up in a slight smile. "Like you need me, for starters. And that I love the hell out of you, and you couldn't pay me to walk away right now."  
  
Emma sighed. "I don't know what I would do if something happened to you. Alex and Olivia, they understand this, they're used to this. This is the one thing in my life you're not a player in. I want - no, I need - to protect that. It's sacred to me."  
  
Amy nodded solemnly, then contradicted her body language. "I'm sorry, sweetheart, you don't get a vote here. I'll be as careful as you, but I'm not leaving."  
  
"You're going to be a prisoner, do you understand that?" Emma's eyes bore into the redhead's. "You're going to have a police guard following you everywhere. They're going to put a female agent on you when you go to the bathroom. You have to assess every noise you hear, every step you take. Are you prepared for that?"  
  
"As long as I'm jailed with you, it'll be fine," Amy assured her. "Do you really want to face this alone?" she countered. "I know you have Alex and Olivia, but I'd like to think I bring something different to the table."  
  
"Of course you do." Emma sighed again. "I do love you, as much as it pains me to admit it," she allowed herself a small, teasing smile. "I'm just terrified that you're going to get in the crossfire. That's a chance that I don't want to take. I can't lose you, especially not over this."  
  
"You won't, I promise." The redhead fully realized it was an empty promise.  
  
"All right." Emma stopped digging in her heels and wiped at her face. "God, I must look like a train wreck."  
  
"You look gorgeous," Amy murmured, her fingers stroking Emma's cheek. "Think you can make it through the rest of the party?"  
  
"The show must go on," Emma replied with a smile. "Let's go make sure my sister hasn't dropped or destroyed the remainder of the dessert."  
  
"Okay." Amy smiled in response to Emma, reaching for the blonde's hand.  
  
* * *  
  
Alex kept a very close eye on Emma for the rest of the night, as Olivia monitored the door for any activity. Thankfully, there was none, and the remainder of the party went off without a hitch.   
  
As the last of the guests left, Alex started gathering up some of the cups and plates. Emma floated over, tsking as she did, and swiped the dishes from her sister's hands. "Go home, Alexandra," her sister ordered. "I've got this."  
  
"Emma," Alex started to protest, but Emma shook her head. "I've got plenty of help, and Amy and I are leaving soon anyway. Just go home. Please."  
  
Alex didn't move. "I'm staying here until the detail arrives."  
  
Emma motioned to the bar, where two uniforms were piling leftovers into Tupperware. "They're here." She kissed her sister on the cheek. "Say bye to Olivia for me. And yes, I'll be fine."  
  
Alex sighed softly, but turned to leave. She sidled up next to Olivia and placed a hand on her girlfriend's back. "We're being kicked out."  
  
Turning toward Alex, Olivia offered a comforting smile and pocketed her cell phone; she'd been checking messages. "She'll be fine," the detective promised softly, glancing at Emma as they started for the door.  
  
"I'm not worried about her," Alex replied. "I'm worried about him. He's had time to stew, time to plot. He's angrier than ever, and he'll stop at nothing to destroy her. Especially when he realizes she's not obsessed with him, and is happy with her life."  
  
"We're going to do everything we can, Alex," Olivia said. The words were trite, but she meant them.  
  
"I know. And for the first time, I feel like Emma might just stand a chance against him. The thing is, Liv, even I don't know what he's capable of right now. That terrifies me." Alex pulled her cardigan over her shoulders as she handed their valet slip to the parking attendant.  
  
Shaking her head, Olivia had no reply. When the valet brought the car, she climbed in; they were nearly halfway home when she finally spoke again. "Alex, I don't know what to tell you. I feel completely and utterly paralyzed. All I can do is trust the cops watching Emma, trust her and Amy to keep one eye open at all times, and protect her the best I can when we're together. We can't spend every second worrying about this. We'll go crazy."  
  
"I know." Alex replied easily, sliding her hand over the console to link her fingers with Olivia's. "We have to be just as vigilant, too, you know. He could come after us just to torture her."  
  
"I know. That's why I'm going to keep you under very close watch." Olivia adopted a teasing tone, hoping to lighten the mood.  
  
Alex chuckled. "And this is different from every other day how?"   
  
"Well," Olivia glanced sideways with a wicked grin, "you'll be under full protective custody. Mine, that is. I'm afraid I'll have to handcuff you to the bed, ma'am."  
  
Alex laughed fully now. "You're psychotic. Cute, but psychotic."  
  
"Psychotic? I think not." Olivia feigned hurt as she made the turn-off for their neighborhood. "Simply trying to distract you with the promise of sex. Is it working?"  
  
Alex tilted her head coyly. "It would work better if you went into details."  
  
The detective chuckled softly, pulling up in their driveway and sliding the car into park. "Oh, really? Well, come on inside and I'll elaborate."  
  
* * *  
  
"Just a second!" Emma called, rushing from the kitchen to her front door. She opened the door and was immediately confused. "Where's Olivia?"  
  
"Good morning to you, too," her sister greeted, eyeing Emma's outfit. "Is that one of my old suits?"  
  
"Never mind that," Emma replied, ushering Alex inside. "Shouldn't you be sleeping or something? It's only eight o'clock."  
  
"Olivia got a call at about two this morning. Fourteen-year-old found on the lower east side," Alex explained. "Kid was a runaway from Jersey. She got the paperwork."  
  
Emma clucked her tongue. "What a shame. So you're coming with me?"  
  
Alex nodded. "I left my cheerleader outfit at home. Hope you don't mind."  
  
Emma grabbed her purse and made sure her copy of the civil protection order was tucked safely inside. "Not at all. Besides, Olivia appreciates that more than I do."  
  
They quickly hailed a cab and checked in with the civil court clerk upon their arrival to the courthouse. It was strange for Alex to be back, but she knew this wasn't about her, and focused on Emma's well-being. She smiled a good morning to Cragen as he rushed into the courtroom; since he had been the one to see Peter, he needed to testify in front of the judge.  
  
"Emma Cabot?" The blonde rose and stood at the petitioner's dais, Cragen at her side.  
  
"All right," the judge began, "You have had a civil protection order against your stepfather for the past...seven years in New York State, is that correct?"  
  
"Yes, Your Honor," Emma replied.  
  
"And how did he violate this order?"  
  
Emma explained the circumstances surrounding the previous evening, and indicated Donald as he stood next to her. "Captain Cragen exited the building, and saw the respondent."  
  
"Captain Cragen, how far was the respondent from the petitioner's place of work?"  
  
"No more than twenty feet," Cragen replied.  
  
"Did he attempt to speak to the petitioner?"  
  
"No, Your Honor. I guided him away from the premises before he could do so."  
  
The judge nodded. "That's good enough for me. A bench warrant is hereby issued for Peter John Kelleher for violation of a civil protection order. Miss Cabot, where is your stepfather now?"  
  
Emma shook her head. "I'm not sure. The state of New York should have some record of him, based on his release from Attica Prison."  
  
"John," the judge spoke to her clerk, "please contact the probation office and find Mr. Kelleher's release address. Forward the paperwork there. Miss Cabot, you may approach and get your copy of the service papers."  
  
"Thank you." Emma walked up and signed the copies, clutching the carbon paper. Alex rose and met her with a smile and hug. "Excellent."  
  
Emma hugged Cragen tightly. "Thanks for coming. Now get back to your investigations."  
  
Cragen rubbed Emma's back and bid them both goodbye.  
  
Emma turned to her sister as they exited the courtroom. "I need to go use the bathroom," she said discreetly, handing her sister her purse. "Can you hang on to this for me?"  
  
Alex nodded, watching her go. She sat down in the waiting area and studied the tile floor until a pair of expensive men's shoes filled her vision.  
  
Trevor Langham's eyes lingered on the blonde in disbelief. "Alexandra," he drawled. "If I wasn't seeing you with my own two eyes, I wouldn't believe it. You're supposed to be dead," the King of the Obvious added.  
  
"I am?" Alex feigned surprise. "Damn, I wish someone would have told me."  
  
Sliding into the seat beside Alex, Trevor leaned in, far too close for her comfort. "That's what the papers said. What happened?"  
  
"Alien abduction."  
  
"Really? Well," Trevor recovered with a dry chuckle, "whatever they did, you look wonderful. If you have a free night, perhaps you and I could get together again."  
  
Alex smiled, but shook her head. "I'm trying to maintain a low profile. Your ambulance chasing would just put a damper on that. I'm sorry." She rose and joined Emma, who was watching her with a very confused look on her face.  
  
Emma's laughter trailed behind them as Alex explained the encounter. "What an amoeba."  
  
Trevor sat for a long moment, his irritation festering. Bitch.  
  
* * *  
  
"God, if I never have to see the Lower East Side again, it'll be too soon," Olivia grumbled in exhaustion. "I'll start on these reports if you call Tech about the luds."  
  
"Benson," Cragen called across the office. "You got a minute?"  
  
"For you, Cap?" Olivia bantered. "Anytime." She strode across the bullpen and into Cragen's office, pulling up short as the detective saw the two men in the chairs.  
  
"These are Detectives Rumin and Lowry from Homicide," Cragen began as he shut the door. "They have a few questions to ask you."  
  
The younger of the two detectives rose. "Detective Benson, are you currently residing at 145 West 68th Street?"  
  
Glancing warily at Cragen, Olivia nodded when he did. "Uh, yes, I am. Why?"  
  
"You're not currently living at 710 Firestone Way on Long Island?" the other detective asked.  
  
"My legal residence is on 68th," Olivia explained carefully. "Lately, I've been staying out on Long Island. Why?" she persisted.  
  
"We received an anonymous tip this morning that you may be a material witness to a murder. Detective Rumin and I would like to bring you down to our precinct for a few questions." Lowry motioned to the door. "Would you come with us?"  
  
"Whoa, whoa, boys." Olivia held up a hand to stop the conversation, her other hand going to her hip in consternation. "What murder? One of you tell me what the hell's going on here, and I'll think about cooperating. Otherwise, I want my union rep."  
  
Rumin and Lowry exchanged a look. Finally, Rumin nodded to his partner, and Lowry began speaking. "We received information that Alexandra Cabot is alive and well, and you know her whereabouts. If she is alive, she is the prime suspect in a murder. If you know she's alive, you become a person of interest."  
  
Rumin sized up Olivia. "So are you two shacking up on Long Island, or does she prefer the city life?"  
  
The brunette detective set her mouth in displeasure. "Watch your mouth," she growled, instinctively tucking her ringed hand in her pocket.  
  
"Answer the question," Rumin countered.  
  
"Whose murder?"  
  
"Murder in a hotel room last year. Just before the Zapata mess," Lowry replied, his tone apologetic for his partner's attitude.  
  
Letting her eyes meet Lowry's, Olivia nodded slowly. "Her sister?"  
  
Lowry nodded. Rumin smirked. "Never would have thought a pretty face like that could off her own sister."   
  
"She didn't," Olivia replied coldly, not bothering to glance at Rumin. "And this is the last time I'll tell you to watch your mouth where Alexandra is concerned."  
  
"Alexandra had opportunity, motive and means, Detective," Rumin replied. "Or did you forget your academy training, working here so long with the sex police?"  
  
"Knock it off," Cragen warned angrily. "I know your LT; it'll be a pleasure for both of us to have your badge."  
  
Lowry deftly stepped in. "Detective Benson, have you been in contact with Alexandra Cabot?"  
  
Debating her answer for a long moment, Olivia finally relented. "Yes. But she's still technically in Witness Protection, so you can't touch her." The last comment was directed at Rumin.  
  
"How long is she going to be in Witness Protection?" Lowry queried.  
  
"Undetermined," Olivia replied graciously, smiling thinly at the homicide cop. "Until the DEA and the FBI are convinced that Velez' compatriots aren't after her."  
  
"All the more time to build up our case," Rumin muttered.   
  
Lowry handed Olivia a business card. "We're still going to need you to come down and answer a few questions. We inactivated the case when Miss Cabot 'died', but with her once again a viable suspect, it's been reopened. We'll need to take a statement."   
  
"Of course. Will tomorrow be soon enough?"  
  
"That'll be fine," Rumin replied. "Have a nice day."  
  
Cragen watched the two men leave and shook his head. "Place has really gone downhill since I left."  
  
"No kidding. Cap, you think they're serious?" Olivia asked softly. "Alex didn't kill Caroline."  
  
"Of course she didn't," Cragen replied. "They're probably getting a lot of pressure from upstate—Caroline was the golden child to Victoria and Peter. And we both know the shit that Peter's friends can and have pulled. I wouldn't worry. Just go tomorrow, take your union rep, and it'll be done with. They can't touch Alex until she's fully released from WPP."   
  
"Okay." Olivia expelled a shaky breath. "By the way, Alex wanted me to invite you out to the house on Saturday. Barbecue, nothing fancy. You free?"  
  
"Sure," Cragen replied. "You and Emma are cooking, right?"   
  
"Yup," Olivia confirmed with a chuckle. "Although Alex is attempting potato salad."  
  
"With a ton of supervision, I'd hope." Cragen nodded toward her desk. "Don't you have some witness statements to go over?"   
  
"Yeah, I'm goin', you ol' grouch," Olivia muttered good-naturedly under her breath.  
  
* * *  
  
"Hi, two for lunch?" The perky Katie Holmes-type smiled at the two men in suits who entered Gables.  
  
"No, thanks," Lowry replied. "Is Emma Cabot here?"  
  
The hostess shook her head. "No, she's out on Long Island with her sisters. I can leave her a message if you like."  
  
Rumin smiled and shook his head. "No. But thank you for your help."  
  
* * *  
  
"Emma," Olivia called over the music, "Need more sauce!" She dipped her brush in the last of the barbecue concoction she'd whipped up, with the help of her favorite recipe website, and slathered the sauce on the ribs. It wasn't true barbecue - for that you needed a smoker and half a pig - but for New York in early September, it would do just fine.  
  
Eyeing the meat, Olivia pierced a chicken breast and nodded in satisfaction as the juice ran clear. "Amy," she directed, and the redhead marked the page in the book she was reading and jumped to her feet. Truth be told, the detective thought Emma's girlfriend might be a little scared of her, and she wondered why; her gun was safely locked up in the house. "Could you grab that?" Olivia gestured toward a large oval platter on the picnic table. The table and exquisitely overpriced grill were her first two investments upon moving to the 'burbs, as Elliot referred to the Islands.   
  
Amy passed the platter to Olivia, who heaped barbecued chicken breasts on top, handing it back. "Thanks," the detective said with a grin. "If you'll just toss a sheet of plastic wrap over that, you can go back to reading," she added, as Emma appeared with a Tupperware container full of barbecue sauce.  
  
Emma breathed in the smells wafting over the backyard and made a drooling sound, a la Homer Simpson. "That smells so damn good," she praised the brunette, handing her the newest batch of sauce. "I should get back inside; I left Alexandra alone with the side dishes. With her luck, she'll start putting cumin all over my deviled eggs instead of paprika."   
  
"Run," Olivia ordered. "How close are you being done?" she added as Emma headed for the house.  
  
"Um," Emma turned on the deck steps, quirking her mouth and readjusting her flip-flop. "Probably ten, fifteen minutes at most."   
  
"Sounds good." Olivia lowered the flame on the behemoth of a gas grill and closed the top, sinking onto a picnic bench with a sigh. "I just hope Alex manages not to poison us with her potato salad," she joked.  
  
Amy grinned. "You have 911 on speed dial, just in case?"  
  
"Nice spread," Lowry commented as he pulled their sedan to a stop on the driveway.   
  
"This is why the federal government is trillions of dollars in debt," Rumin replied, climbing out. "Looks like the party's this way."  
  
The two men walked around to the backyard, amazed by the gathering of people laughing, eating, playing football. Lowry nudged his partner and made his way toward the barbecue grill. "Afternoon, Detective Benson."  
  
Whirling, Olivia's heart leapt into her throat. "Hi there. Lowry, right?"  
  
The detective nodded, admiring the grill. "Nice machine. Is this the one with the burners?"  
  
"Yeah." Olivia couldn't help grinning a little as she showed off her new toy. "They say it can grill a steak in as little as five minutes. I haven't tested that particular claim, but it's suiting my purposes just fine." She glanced warily at Rumin, still on edge over their confrontation a few days prior. Looking back at Lowry, Olivia asked, "You need to clarify something in my statement?"  
  
"I bet you this thing would cost me two months' rent." Lowry admired the grill for a moment longer before shaking his head at Olivia's question. "We need to talk to Emma Cabot. We went to her restaurant, and one of the employees said she was here."  
  
"I'll go get her," Amy volunteered, judging from Olivia's facial reaction that by no means did she want the detectives inside her home. She strode up the steps and into the kitchen, calling, "Em!"  
  
"In the kitchen, cutie," Emma called back, taking a swig of beer and watching the Jets and Patriots game on the small television perched on the countertop. She snagged a dill pickle and smiled at her girlfriend. "We're almost done in here. Allie's just finishing off the last of the deviled eggs."  
  
"Uhm, Emmy, there's a couple of detectives outside with Olivia. They want to talk to you," Amy said quietly.  
  
"Oh." Emma rinsed off her hands and followed Amy back outside. As she descended the steps from the house, she readjusted her t-shirt and the waistband of her Capri pants and headed toward Olivia. "I'm Emma Cabot," she introduced herself. "I heard someone wanted to talk to me."  
  
"I'm Dave Lowry, and this is my partner, Gene Rumin. We're from Homicide," the younger detective extended his hand.   
  
"Homicide?" Emma raised her eyes, looking the two men over. "He looks like a homicide cop, but you look like a white collar crimes kind of guy."  
  
Lowry chuckled, taking in the beautiful face in front of him. "We know this isn't the best time, but we were wondering if we could talk to you about your sister."  
  
Emma shook her head slightly in confusion. "Allie?"  
  
"No. Caroline," Rumin replied, eyeing Amy as the food was brought out.  
  
"Okay, now I'm really confused," Emma replied, chancing a look at Olivia. "Carrie died almost a year and a half ago."  
  
"We've been busy," Lowry replied with a dapper smile. "Where were you that night?"  
  
Emma sighed. "Um, God. I think I had a date, maybe. It was right after I settled the civil trial...yeah, the four of us went out to dinner - Olivia, Alex, me and my date. And then they went home," she gestured to Olivia, "and we went out afterward."  
  
"Anybody who can vouch for you?" Rumin asked, pulling out his notepad.  
  
"I haven't talked to my date in a while, but I can try and get in touch with her if you like," Emma replied.  
  
Lowry nodded. "What time did you get home that night?"  
  
Emma shrugged. "I really don't remember, Detective. Probably late, because I remember Detective Munch coming the next morning to tell me about Carrie, and I remember wanting to kill him for waking me up when I'd just fallen asleep."  
  
"Did you have any contact with your sister that day?" Rumin interjected.  
  
Emma shook her head. "No. I had seen her a few days earlier when I went to her proposing a settlement. I didn't see her after that."  
  
"What hotel was she staying in?"  
  
"When I saw her? The Omni," Emma replied, looking at a now silent Lowry.  
  
"Did you tell anyone she was there?" Rumin continued.  
  
"I don't remember," Emma replied sorrowfully. "It was so long ago. And, to be honest, Caroline and I weren't close at all. Not to mention a ton has happened in the interim. I don't recall any of the details in reference to my sister's death. I'm sorry, Detectives."  
  
"Do you have any idea who might have wanted her dead?" the older man asked.  
  
Emma chuckled. "I think the more appropriate question is, who would have wanted her alive. But then again, I didn't have much contact with her. All I knew about her connections were the ones she had with my stepfather." She offered a full-watt smile to Lowry. "I'm sorry I can't be more helpful."  
  
Lowry returned the smile and slipped her a business card. "If you think of anything else, please give me a call."  
  
Emma continued smiling and nodded. "I will. Did you guys want any food for the drive back?"  
  
Rumin shook his head for the both of them. "No, thank you. Thanks for your time."  
  
Emma nodded and winked slightly at Lowry before the younger detective departed, following his partner. As soon as the men were situated in their sedan, Emma shuddered. "Bastards."  
  
"Just doin' their job," Olivia said noncommittally as she checked on the rest of the food. Reaching down, she cut the gas and started piling ribs and hamburgers onto more platters. "Soup's on!" she called to the rest of the guests, most of whom were oblivious to the homicide detectives' arrival and departure.  
  
"I guess," Emma replied, stealing a chicken breast. "How did they find us out here? Oh, shit!" She looked toward the house. "God, do you think they know about Alex? Should we call the Marshals?"   
  
"They know," Olivia said quietly. "She's their primary suspect." She turned and headed into the house; as she approached the kitchen, the detective lingered in the doorway, watching her partner.  
  
Clad in jeans and a short white t-shirt, Alex was leaning against the island, cursing at the Patriots' offense. "Jesus, Mary and Joseph," she muttered, reaching flawlessly behind her and grabbing one of the deviled eggs she'd made. "To run, you'd need running backs, you jackasses. Just throw it, for crying out loud."  
  
Olivia crossed her arms over her chest, expelling a soft chuckle. "You oughta try out for Bill Belichik's job. With that kind of inspirational talk, you'd take the Pats to another Super Bowl win."  
  
Alex laughed, but didn't turn around. "You have 2nd and 5. Why run it and face a third down when your QB has one of the best ratings in the league for passing completion? It's common sense."  
  
If Alex had turned, she would've seen the look of complete and utter confusion on Olivia's face. She understood basketball and baseball, even hockey to an extent. Football was a mystery that ranked right up there with, 'Why do women wear pantyhose?' "Common sense, right," she teased. "You hungry?"  
  
The blonde turned off the television and smiled at her girlfriend. "I've been holed up in here all day, smelling those sinful smells as they waft into the house. The teasing alone made me hungry."  
  
"Great. The barbecue's done, so if you just grab the eggs, I'll take the potato salad." Only Olivia's repressed demeanor and soft voice let Alex know that anything was wrong. She had kept this little bit of information from Alex for nearly a week - not intentionally, but because at first she'd forgotten, and then there didn't seem to be a good time to tell her.  
  
"So who were the visitors?" Alex asked, balancing the tray delicately with one hand as she opened the screen door.  
  
"Homicide detectives," Olivia said calmly.  
  
"Friends of yours?" Alex carefully made her way down the back steps, staying close to Olivia's hushed voice.  
  
Shaking her head, Olivia replied, "No. They wanted to talk to Emma about Caroline."  
  
"Oh." Alex set the tray on the long tables they'd set up earlier in the day, stepping to the side as Elliot's twins made a mad dash for the food, only slightly ahead of their father. She curled her hand around Olivia's elbow and guided her toward the opposite side of the house. "What's going on, Liv?"  
  
Turning to face Alex, Olivia sighed and spilled out the entire story. "And you're the prime suspect," she finished wearily.  
  
Alex breathed heavily. "I wasn't expecting that. Me? How the hell am I the prime suspect?"  
  
"I guess Emma's got an alibi, and I don't have enough motive, or something. Did you go to see her that night?" Olivia queried, eyes narrowing. "Do they have something on you, Alex?"  
  
Alex sighed, narrowing her mouth. "Yes, I went to go see her that night. But I didn't kill her. You've got to know that."  
  
"I know," Olivia said with a nod and a sigh. "I didn't think you were capable of that, but if they've got some evidence - fingerprints or a security video, we're going to need more than your word to fight it."  
  
Alex shrugged. "We just talked about Emma. I called her a few names. She—she had been drinking, and she took a swing at me. I shoved her back. She fell against the nightstand. I left after that." She shook her head, curling her hair behind her ear. "Damn it. They're going to railroad me for this, aren't they?"   
  
"No, baby," Olivia promised, reaching out to stroke Alex's hair quickly. "Let's just relax and try to enjoy the afternoon, okay?"  
  
Alex offered a gentle, but still wary smile. "Okay," she agreed. "Lead the way."  
  
Olivia did, leading Alex toward the picnic table and clearing a space next to Amy. Reaching for two paper plates, she loaded them up and passed one to Alex, settling beside her. "This is the life," she chuckled, squinting against the afternoon sun.  
  
"How's my potato salad?" Alex asked, cutting into her chicken breast.  
  
"Hasn't killed me yet," Emma replied with a good-natured grin. "You put more mustard in there."  
  
Alex shrugged. "You're the one who left me alone for two minutes. Blame yourself."  
  
Emma laughed, curling her long fingers around the neck of her beer. "Hard to believe summer's over," she commented.  
  
"You started gearing up for Christmas yet?" Alex asked with a chuckle.  
  
"I have to get through Halloween first," Emma replied petulantly.  
  
"That's a no," Alex joked, putting a hand on Olivia's knee. "I think I hit a nerve."  
  
"Don't torture her," Olivia grinned. "I'm the one who started tree-shopping a month ago."  
  
"You two are really, really wrong," Alex declared, dunking her chicken in even more sauce. "We going anywhere this year?"  
  
Emma shrugged. "I figured one of us would have to work. I hadn't thought about it."  
  
Alex looked between Amy and Olivia. "I know I'm free, and I know you have leave," she nudged the brunette. "Thoughts?"  
  
Glancing between Emma and Alex, Olivia shook her head. Something was off, and the detective had an idea it had to do with the visit from Homicide. "Em, you want to talk about it?" she asked quietly.  
  
Emma's eyes widened. "Not right now, thank you," she replied. "Excuse me." She swung out from underneath the picnic table and headed back to the buffet on the pretense of refilling her plate. She threw out her beer bottle and uncapped a new one, taking a swig as she tried to relax.  
  
Olivia nodding knowingly at Amy, indicating she should stay in her seat. The detective rose and crossed the lawn, coming up next to Emma. "Em, talk to me?" she suggested softly. "The first three beers didn't help, the next three won't either."  
  
"I'm worried," the tall blonde replied. "About me, about Allie. They're going to come after us for this. That, on top of Peter, and worrying about Amy's safety...it's just been a really shitty day."  
  
"Okay," Olivia acknowledged, "but what good is stressing over it going to do? Alex and I agreed to just try to enjoy the barbecue. Think you can join us? We'll worry about this tomorrow." She glanced over at Emma's detail, who were in board shorts and flip-flops, chatting over a shared plate of ribs with Fin and the unusually happy Munch. Olivia wondered how much more the blonde would have to endure.  
  
"This isn't something I can just turn on and off, Olivia. You told me, when Mark started back up, that I could never let my guard down. I have to live in a constant state of heightened awareness and fear. I'm sorry if that puts a damper on your barbecue."  
  
"Emma," Olivia replied, perhaps more sharply than she should've, "you're in a yard full of cops. This isn't about Peter, this is about Caroline. What's going through your head?"  
  
Emma sighed. "Everything is going through my head, Olivia. And this will always be about Peter. You'd best not forget that." Steely blue eyes met brown. "I'm just really scared that they're gonna come after me. Or worse, go after Allie. I can't lose her again."  
  
"You're not going to," Olivia rationalized, reaching for Emma's hand.  
  
Amy suppressed a tiny twinge of jealousy as she watched the exchange from the table. There would always be a bond between Olivia and Emma that Amy could neither understand nor affect. While the rational, psychologist side of her understood that she was an adjunct to that relationship - a bystander, if you will - the girlfriend in Amy would always feel that sliver of envy, because there was a part of Emma she would never, could never know, simply because Amy was not the detective.  
  
"Alex isn't going anywhere," Olivia reinforced. "The only thing they can prove is that she was in Caroline's hotel room. They have no murder weapon, and we both know she doesn't have any guns, so there goes means. Opportunity and motive, possibly, but she's an officer of the law, and that's gonna look real good in her favor." Olivia squeezed Emma's fingers gently. "Trust me, okay?"  
  
"You know I do," Emma softened, twining their hands together. "I've just been feeling a lot of stress over the past few days. I don't know if I could handle another investigation or another trial. I feel like I'm going to break."  
  
"Want me to get the duct tape?" Olivia teased gently.  
  
Despite her best efforts, Emma smiled. "You jackass." She curled into Olivia and butted her shoulder, resting a hand on the detective's hip. "I'll do my best to put on a brave front. Okay?"   
  
"Okay. And if all else fails, drown your sorrows in cheesecake." Olivia hugged Emma tightly.  
  
Amy became intensely interested in her hamburger, although she didn't appear to be eating it.  
  
Alex's eyes floated between her sister and her girlfriend, and poor Amy, the epitome of someone shut out in the cold. Alex took a sip of her lemonade and said conversationally, "I remember one of the times the three of us went out," she motioned to Olivia and Emma. "The two of them went to dance, and a friend of Emma's came up to say hi to me. She looked out at the dance floor and commented how good the two of them looked together, how perfectly they fit. They were such a great, sexy couple. I was so jealous," she chuckled. "I talked to Olivia about it that night. She told me that she and Emma are very close, and that yes, they love each other. But she asked me who she was in bed with, who she had declared her love to. I still feel that little pang of jealousy when I see them together, but it helps to know she's coming home with me."  
  
Amy looked up at Alex with an expression of pure relief. "Thanks," she murmured. "Was I that obvious?"  
  
"Only to someone who's been there," Alex replied with a reassuring smile. "She does love you, you know. I've never seen that look on her face before."  
  
"Really?" Amy's heart skipped a few beats. She knew Emma liked her; they'd said their first 'I love you's at Huang's party. She couldn't help asking herself, though, if Emma loved Amy the way the redhead loved her. Watching the easy conversation between the blonde and Olivia, Amy was struck by just how much she cared about Emma.  
  
Alex nodded. "Knowing her the way I do, I'd say she's pretty much head over heels for you. She's just really leery of admitting that to anyone, most of all you. Her greatest fear in life is being burned by someone she trusts, especially if she fell in love with that someone."  
  
"Are you serious?" Her eyes widened as Amy stared at Alex, her intimidation about talking to the blonde quickly dissipating. "I would never hurt her," the redhead added softly. "Never."  
  
"Oh, I know that. And I'm sure she does, too. I don't think this has anything to do with you, actually. This is about her giving herself permission to be happy again. She's been so tortured and tormented her entire life that I really don't think she allows herself to accept happiness." Alex looked back over at her sister, who was once again deep in conversation with Olivia. "But I see the way she looks at you, hear the way she talks about you. I really think you could break that cycle."  
  
"You do?" Kicking herself mentally, Amy shook her head. "Only if she lets me," she said aloud, answering her own rhetorical question.  
  
"I think you're the perfect person to put up with her right now," Alex said after a moment. "You know and understand her, plus you have the psychological training to deal with her. I think she'll let you in, very soon."  
  
"I hope so. Thanks, Alex," Amy said with a genuine smile.  
  
"Any time. We should start our own Emma Deciphering Club," Alex kidded with a chuckle.  
  
"Only if I get to be president," Amy laughed, truly relaxing. "Hey, Alex?"  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"Are you really okay with...me? Us?" Amy asked, watching Alex's face for a non-verbal reaction. "I know how close you two are, and I don't want there to be any resentments between you and me, about Emma splitting her time and affection."  
  
Alex shook her head instantly. "Honey, the less time I have to spend with my sister, the better." She laughed heartily. "All I've ever wanted for her is happiness. And if she thinks she can be happy with you, then mazel tov." She chuckled again. "You know we'll kick your ass if you hurt her, but I have faith in you. You two are going to be fine."  
  
Across the yard, Olivia was teasing Emma about the blush that crept over her cheeks at the mere mention of Amy's name.  
  
"The same thing happened when you first started dating Allie," Emma defended herself. "You might not blush now, but you giggle and get all girly. Don't deny it."  
  
"I deny it completely," Olivia grinned. "Her name does not make me giggle."  
  
"Alexandra," Emma said, watching as Olivia's grin widen. "Alex. Allie. See?" Emma poked at Olivia's stomach. "You're a girly girl."  
  
"I grinned," the brunette objected, swatting at Emma's hand. "That does not make me a girly girl."  
  
Munch came up behind the pair just in time to hear Olivia's last comment. He didn't respond, simply snorted in laughter as he picked up a hamburger and went back to his conversation with Fin.  
  
"Hey," Olivia said to Emma, acknowledging Munch with an eye roll, "we haven't had a movie night in a while. You and Amy want to stay the night?"  
  
"Yeah, I'd love to," Emma replied. "I think Amy might be on-call, though. I'll have to check."  
  
"Okay. Let me know after everybody leaves and we'll make plans." Olivia squeezed Emma once more for good measure, striding back to the table and slipping in next to Alex. "You stole one of my eggs," she accused good-naturedly.  
  
"Prove it," Alex replied with a grin. Her soft eyes met Olivia's, asking a silent question. Everything all right?  
  
"We're fine," Olivia acknowledged out loud, slipping an arm around Alex's waist. "We're thinking of doing a movie night tonight."  
  
"Nice," Alex replied, nodding. "Nothing scary, thank you," she requested in advance. "I still haven't recovered from your Fright Night last month."  
  
"Oh, come on, that was fun!" Olivia grinned. "I never tired of seeing you with your hands over your eyes, pleading for mercy. Besides," she added wickedly, "I love it when you cling to me for protection."  
  
"I wasn't clinging, I was leaning in to pummel you for making me watch in the first place," Alex replied, shaking her head. "'The Exorcist' on its own, I can handle. But the combination of that, plus 'Psycho' and 'The Shining'...nope, no way." She placed her hand on Olivia's upper thigh. "I should get to choose tonight's movies. Something classic, like Danielle Steel Lifetime TV movies. Or my favorites—'A Walk to Remember' or 'Here on Earth'."  
  
Making a loud gagging noise, Olivia clutched her throat. She replied, a little too loudly, "Alexandra, I swear to God, if you make me watch those crappy films again, there will be no wedding, no party, and I will take back that ring."  
  
"Oh, come on, those are cinema at its best!" Alex couldn't get through the sentence without laughing. "Classic movies. You're just too cynical for love stories. You need the crap scared out of you to have a good time."  
  
"That's why I'm with you."  
  
"Hm. Good point," Alex replied.  
  
Emma chuckled, finishing her lunch. "Should we bring out dessert?" she asked Olivia.  
  
Alex groaned. "There's more?"  
  
Emma looked at her, quite confused. "Of course there's more. Why wouldn't there be more?"  
  
Olivia rolled her eyes with a grin, rising from the table to help Emma. "Your sister thinks that just because one hot dog and half a Coke can satisfy her, everyone eats that way."  
  
"This is why she's skinny as a rail and I have my pudge," Emma agreed, patting her stomach.  
  
"Hey, I like the pudge," Amy objected, reaching out to squeeze Emma's slight stomach as the blonde passed behind her.  
  
Emma grinned and headed toward the kitchen, stopping along the way to gather some of the empty plates. Olivia pulled out the pies and the dirt cake Emma had made while Emma scooped the few leftovers into Olivia's prized Tupperware. "Maybe these will catch Alex's waistline up to mine," she teased, grabbing a bottle of water with one hand, while putting the leftovers in the fridge with the other.  
  
The two women made their way back outside to enjoy the remainder of the afternoon. Elliot's twins and Emma attacked everyone with Super Soakers; Alex and Olivia were favorite targets until Olivia grabbed Emma's gun and chased her halfway down the block.   
  
As the sun faded, friends moved into their cars, leaving a damp Emma, wrapped in a borrowed bath towel, snuggled up on one of the chaise lounges. Amy was inside checking her messages, and Alex lay in between Olivia's legs, resting her head on the brunette's chest, watching the sun set behind the trees. Alex broke the silence first, commenting, "We should start cleaning up before the rodents come to steal the leftovers."  
  
"You're right," Olivia agreed reluctantly, as Amy emerged from the house, grinning at Emma. She gave Alex a gentle shove. "You're gonna have to get off my legs, porky."  
  
"I'm too comfortable," Alex complained, but rose anyway.   
  
Emma sniffled. "If I get a cold because of you, Benson, you can bet I'll be sneezing all over you in spite."  
  
"Because of me?" Olivia scoffed, gathering the remnants of dessert. "You're the one who decided to play Rambo."  
  
Emma sat up and sniffled, patting down her Don King like hair. "You had an unfair advantage! You're weapons trained! And you run really, really fast."  
  
"And you ate enough to stuff a very large piñata," Amy pointed out with a giggle, sinking onto the chaise at Emma's feet. "That slowed you down."  
  
"I'm the cute one in this scenario!" Emma protested. "Everybody knows you don't go after the cute one. Besides," she asked Amy with a pointed look, "whose side are you on?"   
  
"Yours, baby," the redhead placated, leaning in for a swift kiss. "We should either help them clean up, or make tracks."  
  
"How about the third option of sitting on our asses while they do all the work?" Emma nodded with a grin, trying to convince her girlfriend. "No?" She pouted as Amy shook her head. "Hey, we were thinking of doing a movie night, maybe bunking here. You game?"   
  
"I wish I could, but I'm on-call with the clinic. They're the only ones paying me right now, can't piss 'em off. But you stay," Amy insisted, as Emma began to protest. The Applied Behavioral Research center was a combination mental health clinic and research institution, which meant they had more than enough work for Amy.  
  
"I have to drive you back to the city anyway," Emma replied. "I'll just go with you."  
  
Alex rubbed her sister's damp hair. "I can drive her," she offered. "Don't you have some files for me, anyway?"  
  
Nodding, Amy replied, "Yeah, they're at the apartment. That'll save me some wear and tear on my fax machine. Besides," she added, elbowing Emma gently, "that way, we can talk behind your back."  
  
"Oh, my favorite kind of conversation," Alex joked, laughing when Emma glared at her. "I'll go grab my license and my keys. Just holler when you're ready to go."  
  
Alex headed into the house and Emma unwrapped herself from the towel, rubbing her hair. "You sure you're going to be okay without me tonight?" she teased Amy.   
  
"I'll survive...somehow," Amy drawled dramatically, kissing Emma again. "Be good, okay?"  
  
"No promises," Emma replied with a smile. She followed Amy back into the house, taking the last of the plates and resting them on the island. "Al, can I borrow some dry clothes?"  
  
Alex nodded, grabbing her car keys. "You know where everything is. You ready?" she asked Amy, heading toward the garage door.  
  
"Ready." Amy followed Alex out.  
  
"Bye," Emma called. Turning to Olivia, she said, "I'm going to go change." As the brunette nodded in reply, Emma bounded upstairs, peeling her wet clothes off her body. She put them in the dryer and ran into Olivia and Alex's bedroom. She grabbed a well worn pair of jeans and a white long sleeved shirt. She put her hair up in a messy bun and descended back into the kitchen, barefoot. "Okay," she said with a grin, hopping up on the island. "How about you move while I dictate?"  
  
"How about not?" Olivia replied, smacking Emma's thigh. "Good Lord, you look like Alex."  
  
"Duh," Emma replied, sliding off the counter. "I'm a little taller and a little pudgier," she corrected, rinsing off some of the serving trays and piling them in the dishwasher. "Not to mention the whole neurotic mess thing I've got going on. Key difference there."   
  
"Have you met your sister?"  
  
Emma chuckled, squirting some Dawn on a sponge and tackling the more stained dishes. "You have to admit, she's come back and been stronger than ever. I, on the other hand, have a Susan Lucci moment every five minutes. She's much more put together than I'll ever be."   
  
Shaking her head, the detective began loading the dishwasher. "You don't see her at night," she said softly, after a moment. "There's a lot you don't know."  
  
Emma's eyes flew to the detective's. "Good Lord, are you serious? Is she okay? Is she getting help?"   
  
"We're working through it," Olivia replied, "it's nothing for you to worry about. Just don't compare yourself to an ideal that doesn't exist."   
  
They worked silently for a minute before Emma spoke again. "Do you think I'm self-destructive?"  
  
"To an extent."  
  
Emma sighed. "Amy and I had a talk last night. Not one of those lovey-dovey, talk about the future talks, but one of those where one partner is just shooting the breeze and the other is seeing the headlight of the oncoming train. She said something about people with self-destructive and masochistic behaviors—it wasn't even directed at me—but it knocked the wind out of me. I can't handle myself; how the hell am I supposed to handle anyone else, especially in a romantic sense?"  
  
Olivia finished loading the dishes and shut the door of the dishwasher. Straightening, she looked directly at Emma, her gaze unwavering. "Stop trying to handle her and just let her be, Em. She wants to be there for you."  
  
"I'm not trying to handle her," Emma clarified, "I'm trying to handle me." She sighed and eased herself back up onto the counter, heels clicking against the cabinets underneath. "I don't know who or what I am, Olivia. I'm still ruled by these stupid childhood fears, these wounds, this pain that will never go away. How is someone supposed to love that?"  
  
"We all have the same scars, and fears, and inhibitions," Olivia countered. "You're not a 'that'. You're not the sum of your traumas. You're Emma, and that's what Amy loves. Why should Alex love me?" she pressed on. "I'm a child of rape who has a flare-up of self-doubt every time I'm confronted by a rape victim, yet I work with them constantly. I never stop questioning myself and wonder if I was worth the pain my mother suffered to bring me into the world and raise me. But she loves me, anyway. You think any of us has it easy?" Olivia scoffed, albeit gently. "We're all the product of our pasts, but we muddle through."  
  
Emma's eyes started to mist over. "I feel like I'm drowning," she replied, her voice soft and vulnerable. "I'm just so overwhelmed by it all sometimes, you know? And I feel like such an asshole for sitting here and crying over my past when Allie and you—you live it just as much, if not more, and you do it every day." She sniffled and wiped at her eyes. "I guess I'm just really scared with the return of Peter and Caroline into my life. I feel like I'm being pulled back down."  
  
"Don't go," Olivia said with a comforting smile, laying a hand on Emma's knee. She insinuated herself between the blonde's thighs, reaching up to cup Emma's face. "You have every right to cry - I've told you that time and again. You just can't let it overwhelm you."  
  
Emma nodded, trying to be strong, but the tears kept coming for a moment longer. "I'm sorry," she apologized with a watery breath, "I didn't mean for this to happen."   
  
"Relax and let it come."  
  
"Amy said that very thing to me the other night," Emma teased, resting her hands on Olivia's sides, moving her hands only momentarily to wipe the streaks off her cheek. "Why do you put up with me?"  
  
"'Cause you're cute," Olivia grinned sympathetically, leaning forward and kissing Emma's cheek. "You're also a pervert."  
  
"I am not," Emma protested, turning her head slightly and nuzzling Olivia's cheek. "And may I just say, I now fully understand the whole performance anxiety thing? Jesus Christ, I thought Amy would laugh me right out of bed. That is not helping my self-esteem any right now."   
  
Olivia narrowed her eyes. "Did she laugh at you?"  
  
"Not outright, no. But the first few times, she gently said she wanted to focus on me while I got my bearings. It was humiliating," Emma said with a chuckle. "I can't mess this thing up, Liv. I've already exhausted the men. If I strike out with women, it'll be sheep and cows!"  
  
"Emma, this is not women, this is one woman. Amy. A woman who is very much in love with you already, God help her."  
  
"I resemble that remark." Emma lolled her head back and arched her spine, exposing the much-touted pudge underneath her sister's shirt. "I guess I feel like she deserves more than a convert, you know?"   
  
At this, Olivia just glared for a long moment. "If you're a convert, what am I?"  
  
Emma shook her head, holding Olivia tightly. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean it that way," she apologized. "I think part of me feels like I'm trying to force a puzzle piece into a space that doesn't fit."  
  
"Are you forcing what you feel for Amy?"  
  
The blonde sighed. "No. I feel the same tinglies I felt for you after Boston. That's definitely not forced," she chuckled and winked at the brunette. "Maybe this is the whole self-destructive streak coming back again. I don't know."  
  
"Sounds like it." Olivia forced back her questions about the sparks that would always rage between her and Emma. No amount of conversation would resolve those tinglies.  
  
"So how do I stop it? Overcome it? I'm sick of feeling like a little three-year-old who can't function without a safety blanket. And yet, I continue to do it. How do I break the cycle?"  
  
"I don't know," Olivia replied honestly. "As much therapy as you can stomach, I think. And you're pretty astute. When you catch yourself making irrational decisions based on fear or self-doubt, stop. Put it off until a time when you can be more clear-headed."  
  
"And dump on you whenever possible," Emma replied with a grin. "You're the best therapist I've ever had, that's for damn sure."  
  
"That's me, the melting pot for everyone's neuroses," the detective grinned, stroking Emma's cheek. "Feel better?"  
  
"Not really, but thanks for asking," Emma replied, her eyes slipping shut at the contact. "It's really wrong how good you are at that."   
  
"What, comforting?"  
  
Emma shook her head. "The thumb thing. Instant goose bumps."   
  
"Sorry." Olivia dropped her hand, her stomach clenching uncomfortably at the seductively soft tone of Emma's voice.  
  
"No, it's not a bad thing. I finally understand why Alex keeps you around." Emma winked, her heart beginning to race at Olivia's presence and proximity. Bad Emma, she scolded herself. Very bad Emma. "So," she began, her voice hoarse, "movie choices for tonight?"  
  
"Uh, how about 'Notting Hill', for starters. Then when Alex gets here, we can send her right back out to Blockbuster." Olivia tried to pull away but found Emma's scent intoxicating. "She should be back pretty soon."  
  
"Right. Good plan," Emma replied. "We should get 'The Birds' just to mess her up."  
  
"No way. I intend to sleep in my bed tonight, not on the couch."  
  
"You have two guest rooms up there," Emma replied with a grin, curling her foot around Olivia's calf and somehow guiding the detective even closer. "And I know the bed with the cream bedspread I bought is quite comfortable. You'll be fine."  
  
"I am not sleeping alone tonight," Olivia teased with a wink, "so be prepared to be a human pillow if you cause Alex to kick me out."  
  
"Hm, could I deal with the snoring?" Emma quirked her mouth, guiding her lip under her front teeth as she pondered. "To scare the shit out of Alexandra, yeah, I could deal with the snoring."   
  
"I do not snore."  
  
"Oh, my God! You totally do!" Emma massaged Olivia's shoulders. "I still love you, though."  
  
"I do not." Olivia groaned softly. "Magic fingers, Emmy, magic fingers."  
  
"And you don't have to feed me fifty cents to get me to do it," Emma replied. "Turn around and I'll do you one better, hm?"   
  
Olivia turned and leaned back against the counter, letting Emma work her magic.  
  
Emma's long, nimble fingers worked around the base of Olivia's neck and over her shoulders. She kneaded lightly, letting her thumbs add the little pressure necessary. She trailed her hands along Olivia's spine, leaning forward slightly as her hands headed for Olivia's waist. She found herself dropping a kiss on the brunette's exposed neck, her hands beginning to massage the small of the detective's back.  
  
Olivia sucked in a breath as Emma's lips touched her neck, but she didn't move away.  
  
The alarm bells were ringing loud in Emma's head, but her fingers continued to work Olivia's back. Her hands slid under the detective's shirt for a better grip, and she moved her hands back up to Olivia's shoulders. "You're pretty tight up here," the blonde said softly. "Rough day?"   
  
"I spent it with you. You do the math," Olivia teased hoarsely. Her throat was tight, and she knew she should pull away, stop the rush of butterflies in her stomach, that they weren't right.  
  
Emma chuckled, her breath close to Olivia's ear. "You love me," she replied. "You wouldn't have had it any other way."  
  
"You know I do," Olivia murmured.  
  
Emma slid her hands back down Olivia's back, nails scraping slightly, and rested them on her hips. "Did you want me to keep going?"  
  
Olivia found the words stuck in her throat, as she turned to peer at Emma. Of course she did, but she didn't. There was Alex to consider, and Amy, and the fact that they both knew they weren't compatible in the long run, and nothing good would result from giving in to the sexual chemistry between them. But of course she did, so she said nothing.  
  
Emma licked her lips and took a shuddering breath. "Olivia," she murmured, searching the detective's face, her eyes zoning in on the brunette's mouth.  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
A flood of warmth flooded Emma's body as she gently touched her lips to Olivia's. Her mind was screaming, begging her to stop, but her body was more than ready and willing to give in to the sexual tension that permeated the room.  
  
Olivia couldn't think as Emma's mouth descended on hers. For a moment, she lost her focus as her slender arms slid around the blonde's waist. It was just like kissing Alex, only so very different, and a long moment passed in which Olivia wondered what in the hell was going on.  
  
The kiss remained gentle as Emma slid her arm around Olivia more fully. Her mouth opened slightly under the detective's, and the blonde pulled away after a moment. "God, Liv," she breathed, her lids heavy and her lips swollen.  
  
Olivia leaned forward and captured Emma's mouth, lost in the sensations the kiss was producing in the pit of her stomach. She slid her tongue over Emma's lips and gently pried them apart.  
  
Emma melted under the contact, wrapping her long legs around the detective's waist and moving her arms to around Olivia's neck. She met the detective's tongue in an electric instant, and opened her mouth even more, groaning gutturally, a rush of wetness flooding her center.  
  
Meeting Emma's groan with a moan of her own, Olivia tightened her grip on the blonde. Before she realized what was happening, a coarse whisper drew itself from her throat. "God, Alex."  
  
Emma's eyes flew open and she pulled away from the brunette, licking her lips. She stared at Olivia's stricken face for a few minutes before she burst into peals of laughter. She clutched her sides, gasping for air. "You mood killer!" she accused, the giggles continuing.  
  
Unable to muster up a giggle, Olivia just smiled wryly. "What the fuck were we thinking?"  
  
Emma shook her head. "I have absolutely no idea." She sighed heavily, her grip still on Olivia's waist. "It was kind of nice. Insane, but nice."  
  
"Definitely nice. Most definitely crazy," Olivia chuckled softly. "We okay?"  
  
Emma wrapped her arms around the brunette. "We're perfect. You okay?"  
  
"I think so." Olivia nodded slowly. "How do we explain this to the girls? Your sister's a lawyer, I don't think she'll buy temporary insanity, even if it is you," she grinned.  
  
Emma kissed Olivia's neck before leaning backwards. "I think they're both aware of the chemistry and attraction between us. That said, maybe we should we contact our friends with the Witness Protection Program and enlist ourselves."  
  
"Right. Our code names can be Lucy and Ethel."  
  
Emma shook her head. "No, that's you and Alex. You and I are definitely more of a Thelma and Louise pairing." She smiled, rubbing her thumb over Olivia's mouth. "If Allie gives you any shit about this, you blame me, all right?"  
  
"Ditto for Amy, although I think they're both gonna slap us silly and move on," Olivia offered.  
  
Emma nodded, leaning in to kiss the brunette one last time. "What do you say we run to Blockbuster and meet Alex back here?"  
  
"Good plan." Olivia marveled that one moment they could be kissing like lovers; the next, playing like sisters. "Race you to the car."  
  
* * *  
  
"Okay, Emma, you can do this. This is Amy. Amy, who you love, who you practically lived with until a few weeks ago." Emma stood in front of her full-length mirror, readjusting the halter ties of the black dress around her neck. Since the fateful night in Olivia's kitchen almost a month ago, a rift had developed between the young blonde and her redheaded lover. Or, more accurately, Emma had let a rift develop in their relationship.   
  
The homicide detectives had started a full-fledged investigation, and had called Emma in numerous times for follow-up discussions. Even her flirting with Lowry couldn't deter them from her scent, or Alex's. Peter had also been very, very quiet, which made Emma even more nervous—it meant he was gathering his rage and ammunition to pounce like a kitten on a catnip mouse. In the midst of it all, Amy had slipped away, and Emma hadn't followed her.  
  
It was a conversation the previous Wednesday with her sister that turned Emma right. She and Alex had met for coffee, whereupon, for the first time, Emma's kiss with Olivia was discussed in full. Alex had been genuinely forgiving, explaining that she understood why it happened. She didn't like it, but she understood. And since there was a consensus among all involved parties that it would never happen again, Alex argued there was no reason to dwell on it. Alex had also pointedly asked her sister what Amy thought of the whole situation. When Emma replied that Amy didn't know, Alexandra pulled out her five-dollar words and ripped her little sister a new one.  
  
Which is how Emma got to standing in front of her mirror, in her sixth outfit that night, trying to prepare herself for her talk with Amy. They hadn't seen each other in almost two weeks, and Emma feared she'd destroyed one of the only good things left in her life.  
  
She secured her hair in a clip, letting a few loose tendrils tickle her neck. Finally, she grabbed her purse and headed to Gables.  
  
Amy was behind the bar when she caught sight of Emma. Her breath rushed from her body and the redhead smiled, in what she hoped was the friendliest way possible. Of all the things she missed about Emma, Amy missed her friendship the most. Not one phone call or e-mail in over two weeks, and barely any for the two weeks before that; Emma had, for all intents and purposes, dropped out of Amy's life, and that cut her to the core. They'd been friends so long that she didn't know how to live without the constant give-and-take Emma provided.  
  
"Hey," she said with a shaky grin. "You want a drink? I'm not off for another five minutes, and Andi's out having a cig."  
  
"Hi," Emma replied breathily. "Yeah, a chardonnay would be great, thanks." She smiled back, sliding on to one of the barstools. "Place looks good. Nice and busy."  
  
Trying not to let Emma's soft voice get to her, Amy poured a glass of wine and set it in front of the blonde. "Yep, it's hoppin', which means great tips." She passed a customer a bottle of Bud and gratefully took his five-dollar bill. "So, you're okay?" she asked quietly, despite the hum of activity in the restaurant.  
  
"I'm better now," Emma replied honestly, taking a long sip of the wine. "I'm so sorry, Amy. For everything." She offered another small smile, her emotions evident in her face.  
  
"For what?" Amy asked with a direct stare. "I love you, but if you're trying to apologize, you've gotta own it, Em. Do you even know what's been going on in your own head?"  
  
Emma nodded, maintaining the strong game even as her heart rate tripled. "Two things happened. One, I realized how integral you are to my life, how much I'm falling for you. That scared the shit out of me," she ducked her head slightly with an embarrassed shake, "so I started pushing you away because of that." She sighed heavily, returning her eyes to Amy's. "The second thing that happened was...I kissed Olivia." She watched the redhead's reaction, and after she didn't say anything, Emma continued. "It was a huge mistake, and I am extremely disappointed in myself, because it caused me to push you away. And that is the last thing I wanted to do. These past few weeks have been hell, because you weren't there, and I wanted you there, so badly, but I didn't know how to come to you. But here I am, with my heart in my hands. And I am so, so sorry. And I'll understand if you just want me to leave, but I felt I owed it to you to own up."  
  
"You never gave me a chance to leave," Amy accused gently. "You didn't give me the option of backing out or sticking it out. While I can understand the first part of your explanation, don't you think I would've been able to accept that you kissed someone else - especially someone who figures so largely in everything that you've become these last few years?"  
  
Emma didn't reply right away. "I don't think I was able to accept that I'd kissed someone else, because of those feelings that I have for you. That's why I pushed you away. I felt like the ultimate betrayer, and I guess I jumped the gun, and decided for you that you wouldn't want to be with me anymore because of that."  
  
"Thanks for acknowledging that," Amy said with a tender smile. "But what are you going to do, now that I know and have forgiven you? Actually, let's not even call it that, because for me to forgive you means that you did something wrong, and I don't think you did."  
  
"I want you back," Emma replied simply. "I want to fall asleep with you again, I want to make you breakfast when you make me get up at ungodly hours. I just...I just want to be with you." Emma fought back tears; the terror she felt at even the thought of losing Amy left her shaking.  
  
Amy nodded slowly, the psychologist in her holding the lover back. "That's good to hear. What are you prepared to do, to make sure this doesn't happen again?"  
  
"I need to be more honest with myself, and with you. And I need to work on my communication skills; can't have me bungeeing back and forth." Emma took a long sip of her wine, trying to read Amy. It scared her how detached the redhead was; she had said she forgave Emma, right?   
  
"And how are you going to work on that?" Amy asked calmly, abandoning her apron under the bar as Andi approached with a smile.  
  
"Never shut up?"  
  
"See a therapist besides me?" Amy countered, coming around the bar and claiming an empty stool.  
  
Emma nodded. "Can do."  
  
"For you, right? Not for me," Amy clarified. "I want you to want this."  
  
Emma nodded again. "There are a lot of issues I still need to work through. I think it would be a good idea."  
  
"Good." Reaching out, Amy took Emma's hand tentatively. "I missed you."  
  
The tears finally escaped, but Emma smiled, squeezing the redhead's hand. "I missed you, too."  
  
"Don't cry," Amy said softly, twining their fingers. "No use crying over wasted time."  
  
"Right." Emma used her free hand to wipe her eyes. "I love you," she offered softly, rubbing her thumb over Amy's knuckles.  
  
"I love you, too, baby," Amy murmured. "Any word on Peter?" she changed topics abruptly.  
  
Emma shook her head. "Nothing. The DA said his retrial should start in January, maybe February if the docket fills up. I'll have to testify, again, obviously, but they're worried about my testimony, given the issues with Mark."  
  
"Just tell the truth," Amy advised, squeezing Emma's hand tightly. "Hey, what are your plans for this weekend?"  
  
Emma shrugged. "I had planned on begging and groveling, but looks like I'm free now." She smiled gently. "You have your idea face on."  
  
"How about a couple of days of reconnecting - read: sex and talking - at the cabin?" the redhead suggested. "We've got the spare bedroom for the detail."  
  
"We can leave the detail at home," Emma replied. "And that would be lovely."  
  
"Are you sure? I don't want to put you at risk," Amy worried.  
  
Emma shook her head. "They can drive us up there, do a sweep, secure the place, and they can escort us home. But I just want it to be us for the duration, okay?"  
  
Amy grinned. "Okay. We'll lock ourselves in."  
  
Emma nodded, grinning back. "When do you want to leave?"   
  
"Tonight?"  
  
"Perfect. Do you want me to go pack, and then I'll meet you at your place?"  
  
"Sounds good," Amy grinned. "See you in an hour." She leaned over, giving Emma a slow, deliberate kiss.  
  
"Bye," Emma whispered, rising on unsteady legs. She walked out of Gables, thankful her knees didn't buckle beneath her. She pulled her cell phone out of her purse, hailing a cab as she scrolled through the numbers to find Olivia and Alexandra's home number.  
  
"Got it!" Olivia called over the rush of the bathwater. She leaned across the counter, grateful for her height as she lifted the cordless out of its base. "Benson," the detective answered simply.  
  
"Hi," Emma chirped, climbing in the car and giving the driver her address. "How's it going?"   
  
Lowering her voice, Olivia grinned. "Hey, Roo. I'm fine, how're you?"  
  
"I'm wonderful, thank you. Filling out that black dress you and I bought the other week rather nicely," Emma kidded with a seductive edge to her voice. "What are you guys doing?"  
  
Chuckling, Olivia replied, "Well, Alex is in the tub. I'm catching up on some paperwork, and wondering why she's in there alone."  
  
"Aw, she didn't invite you?" Emma's voice turned worried.  
  
"Nope. She wanted a couple hours to herself, I guess."  
  
"I'm sorry," Emma replied. "I didn't mess everything up, did I?"   
  
"Nah." Olivia dismissed Emma's guilt quickly. "It's just Alex being independent. Since she got back, we've spent way more time together than we ever did before, and I think it's catching up with her, especially since she had so much time alone in the Program." The brunette paused, circling the counter and sinking onto a barstool. "Me, I could spend twenty-four seven looking at her, you know?"  
  
"I know. But maybe a little breathing room and a little time apart is healthy for both of you." Emma dug in her purse as the cab pulled in front of her apartment building, and handed the cabbie a twenty. Stepping out, Emma turned and offered a jaunty wave toward her detail, following her in a marked car. "Listen, Liv, I hate to cut you off, but I have to run. I just wanted to let you know that Amy and I are heading to the cabin this weekend. I'll be back on Sunday. I just didn't want you to worry."  
  
"The cabin?" Olivia switched into detective mode. "You're taking the detail, right?"  
  
"We'll be fine. I'll call you when I get back. Love you."   
  
"Emma Katherine," Olivia threatened, "if you so much as think about ditching your detail, I'll kill you myself."  
  
Emma sighed. "They're going to come and check out the place, make sure everything's fine. But Olivia, I need this time to reconnect with Amy, just the two of us. Having armed guards isn't so conducive to that. I promise you we'll be fine. Nobody knows how to get up there, and it's in the middle of nowhere. It's completely safe."   
  
"Emma..." Olivia trailed off with a sigh, realizing how futile it was to argue with her. "Be careful."  
  
"I will. I promise. I have to go pack. Tell Allie I love her, okay?"  
  
"Will do. Love you, Em." Olivia hung up and stood, crossing the living room. She slipped up the stairs and rapped lightly on the door to the master bath. "Alex?" she inquired tentatively.  
  
"Come in," Alex replied softly. Scents of Aveda and Bath & Body Works filled the air, the room lit only by candlelight. The CD of piano concertos ebbed and flowed around the steam rising from their oversized tub. Alex's hair was up in a high bun, and she'd rolled a towel underneath her neck. The combination of the elements made it very difficult for the blonde to open her eyes. Instead, she waited for the rush of cool air and the telltale squeak of the bathroom hinge to let her know Olivia had entered the space.  
  
"Sorry to interrupt." Closing the door, Olivia was immediately enveloped by the steam. She lingered with one hand on the knob, feeling distinctly guilty for invading Alex's private time. "Emma called. She wanted to let us know she's going away with Amy. They'll be back on Sunday."  
  
Alex's arm snaked out of the bubbles to pick up the glass of red wine she'd poured herself. After taking a delicate sip, she licked the remnants off her lower lip and nodded. "I'm glad they're spending time together again."  
  
"Me, too. Hey, Alex..."  
  
Alex opened her eyes. "Hm?"  
  
"Are we okay?"  
  
Alex took a deep breath and nodded, catching her towel before it plummeted into the water. "We're fine." Knowing from her expression that Olivia wasn't completely convinced, Alex slid up in the bath and looked at her lover. "You know I wasn't surprised hearing about you and Emma; hell, I was surprised it hadn't happened before. I guess the timing just struck me as odd. I thought we were really strong since I came back, moving in together. The fact that you would kiss someone else does make me wonder. But it was Emma, so I kind of understand why you did."  
  
Nodding slowly, Olivia lowered the lid on the toilet and sank down. "You know I never would've let it go further than that, right?"  
  
"I know." The blonde sighed, watching Olivia's face flicker in the candlelight. "But I think in that instant, kissing her was much more intimate than sex. It's always been like that for you."  
  
The truth of Alex's words wasn't lost on Olivia, and she could only nod. She, like Emma, wondered if she'd messed up beyond repair.  
  
"Look, Olivia, I know you and Emma love each other very much. And I would never deny you that connection. Part of me is surprised you didn't leave me a long time ago for her. That said," Alex held out her hand to Olivia, "I haven't been sure during the past few weeks how the intimacy between you two affected us. But I know you believe it was a mistake, and I'm willing to move past it."  
  
Olivia leaned forward, elbows on her knees, and curled her fingers into Alex's wet palm. "I love you," she said softly. "I would never leave, even for Emma. You're my complement."  
  
Alex smiled gently. "I love you, too. And I know you wouldn't leave. I was just a little worried this week. There will always be a part of me that thinks Emma could make you just as happy as I do, if not happier."  
  
"No way," Olivia insisted, lowering herself to her knees beside the tub. She tightened her grip on Alex's hand, her thumb stroking the soft skin. She drank Alex in, from the blonde mess atop her head, down the long curve of her smooth neck and over the hidden swell of her breasts, swathed in bubbles and warm water.  
  
Alex moved her hand away from Olivia's and cupped the brunette's cheek. "I trust you. You know that, right?"  
  
"I hope so."  
  
Alex rubbed her thumb over Olivia's cheekbone. "I'm not angry with you, or upset. I was just worried. But I'm over it. Okay?"  
  
"You sure? You don't want jewelry or anything?" Olivia teased.  
  
"Well, jewelry is always a good move," Alex replied with a serious look on her face, balanced out by the teeth-baring grin reserved only for her bathroom mate. She pulled out her hand from the water and examined her pruned skin. "I should probably get out."  
  
"Come on," Olivia grinned back, tugging on Alex's hand. "I'll dry you off...then get you wet again, if you like."  
  
Alex laughed, stepping up gingerly and emptying the remaining bath water. She wrapped herself in her terrycloth robe and undid her hair, letting its damp tendrils brush her shoulders. "So the young lovers are sneaking off to the woods for a make-out session. Nice."  
  
Chuckling, Olivia wrapped an arm around Alex's waist and lowered her lips to the blonde's neck. "Shh," she murmured. "No talking, just kissing."  
  
* * *  
  
In the depths of the Adirondack Mountains, Amy and Emma were living up to the same rule. The detail had swept the area and declared all access roads secure, leaving the two women to their king-sized bed and bottles of wine.  
  
Emma lay curled up, her head resting on Amy's shoulder, a satisfied, happy smile on her face. "This was a great idea, babe."  
  
"Amen," Amy purred. "Wanna go skinny dipping in the lake later?"  
  
Emma chuckled. "Totally." She made a content noise and then nuzzled Amy's chin with the top of her head. "I need food."  
  
Amy groaned softly at the thought of moving. "We have Wheat Thins and cream cheese in the icebox," she offered. "And leftover Subway from the drive up. If you want anything else, you're gonna have to wait 'till morning."  
  
"We have the cookies I brought, too," Emma replied, easing out of bed and pulling a t-shirt over her head. "A post-sex smorgasbord. Life is good." She padded barefoot into the kitchen and gathered up their snacks. She saw a shadow pass in front of the window and did a double take in the evening light. She dismissed the movement and returned to bed, kissing Amy thoroughly as she did so.  
  
"Mmm," Amy giggled in delight. "Chocolate chip."  
  
The leaves rustled softly beneath a careful tread, the snapping of the twigs bearing witness to the observer outside in the dwindling light of dusk. The bugs would come soon - no thicker or worse than those in the Canadian wilderness he'd grown to know so well as a child. The canister of repellent in his pack would dispel them quickly; the bottled water would come in handy during the long night he'd spend, lying in silence, waiting to pounce. He only hoped he'd brought enough supplies. Emma hadn't given him much time to shop.  
  
THE END 


	20. Recidivism

Peter smiled down at Emma, his face lit up with a genuine smile he hadn't been able to muster since before his incarceration.  "I've missed you," he said, his grin widening.  Although he knew she couldn't reply, Peter leaned forward, stroking Emma's cheek, and murmured, "You're finally back where you belong.  Under my thumb."

The gag in her mouth silenced most of her sobs.  Sweat, blood and tears mixed on Emma's cheeks as Peter slithered on top of her, making Emma feel even more nauseous.  Her eyes strained to Amy's slumped form, propped up against the bedroom wall.  Peter had blindsided them, walked right through the front door while they were making love.  He'd brandished a gun and cold-cocked Amy, grabbed Emma and thrown her back down on the bed.  The blonde had since lost track of time and how many times Peter had forced himself on her.  She could only pray that her detail would show up early and rescue them.  She didn't have time to wonder how in the hell he'd found her; she just had to stay alive.

Following Emma's gaze toward her lover's unconscious form, Peter snickered loudly.  "Don't worry.  She won't interrupt us."  His eyes pinned Emma again, as he berated her.  "What in the world made you turn to women?" he asked, coming this-close to sounding like a protective father.  "Couldn't find a man after Mark decided he liked your sister better and you killed him?" Peter seethed.  "Not that I mind, of course.  The bastard let me rot in jail when it was his idea to grab you.  But still, he didn't deserve what you and your sister's bitch did to him."

Emma started to struggle against him again, trying to knee Peter in the crotch.  Her eyes refilled with fury as she fought, Peter's comments doing nothing more than infuriating her.  She refused to let him see how terrified she was, refused to let him feel how fast her heart was palpitating.  She flailed against him, yelping out quietly as he shoved her further into the mattress.

"Simmer down, little girl," Peter replied, breathless from the struggle and resulting excitement stirring in him.  "Don't make me get the heavy chains."

Emma stopped fighting the cloth strips that bound her, tears streaming down her cheeks as she started to give up and give in_.  __God, if you're out there, please help me._

In the corner, Amy stirred and moaned softly, but made no other move.  Peter watched her carefully for a moment, deciding she was still no threat.  "I'm thirsty," he declared.  "Want anything while I'm up?"  The irony of asking questions of his bound and gagged victim was not lost on Peter, and he chuckled wryly to himself as he stepped out of the bedroom.

Emma stared him down.  Her entire body hurt from the assaults, both physical and sexual, but her mind started reeling.  She glanced toward the glass-doored cabinet in the corner, where Amy's grandfather kept a few antique muskets; she wondered if she would be able to slip out of her impromptu handcuffs and get a gun while Peter was distracted with his post-coital thirst.

"Em?" Amy whispered, her scratchy voice barely audible above the hum of the window unit air conditioner.  "Are you okay?"  She opened one eye cautiously, not moving from her slump.

Relief flooded Emma's body.  She nodded discreetly, still gagged and knowing any movement could set Peter off again.  Her eyes flickered deliberately to the corner, and she raised her eyebrows in a silent question.  _Can you get to them?_

Amy nodded slowly.  "Can you get him to take you out of the room?" she whispered.  "I don't think I have time to get it before he—"

"Well, well," Peter rounded the corner with a grin, gun cocked and ready.  He would be forever grateful to the unscrupulous gun dealers of New York state, willing to sell to anyone - felon or not.  "Welcome back to the land of the living," he greeted Amy, who shivered despite her willpower.  "Now, you didn't really think I'd leave you alone long enough to get to your weapon, did you?"  Peter crossed the room and swung the oaken cabinet open easily.  Reaching inside, he fingered the antique musket.  He tucked his revolver under his armpit long enough to remove the large gun and check to see if it was loaded.

Amy leapt up and grabbed a lamp, taking a wild swing at Peter.  She caught the back of his neck, but was unsteady on her feet and couldn't land a full blow.  As Peter turned around, fire for eyes, Amy screamed out.  "Em, run!"

Emma jumped up, lunging at Peter with her tied hands raised for protection.  Dizzy, she missed entirely, catching herself against the gun cabinet as he side-stepped her, rubbing the back of his neck.  "You bitches are all more trouble than you're worth."  He headed for the door and Amy followed, slamming the bedroom door and turning the lock with a shaking hand.  Reaching in her pocket, she grabbed her cell phone and hit the speed dial button for the cell of one of Emma's detail cops.  She explained the situation in a breathless rush and they promised to be there within minutes, having staked themselves at the end of the long, dirt road leading to the cabin.

Emma collapsed against the bed, chest heaving with sobs.  She had never experienced pain this intense before, and she could barely sit up.

The detail finally pounded on the bedroom door.  "Emma?  Amy?" 

"We're in here," Amy called, her voice shaking.  She stood slightly away from Emma, trying to process the events that had just occurred, and worrying that her well-intentioned touch might scare Emma more.

The detail officers shook the door handle.  "You guys have to unlock the door," one of them requested.  Emma stayed on the floor, rifle in hand, as Amy leaned across and opened the bedroom door.  The two men burst in, weapons drawn, and did a cursory check of the scene.  There was blood everywhere; on the floor from where Amy had been attacked, to the bed, which was soaked in Emma's blood.

Eric, one of the officers, knelt in front of Emma.  "Good Lord," he whispered, examining her face.  "Emma, can you hear me?"

Emma's glassy eyes focused in on the young officer.  "Can you hear me now?" she joked.

Relief flooded the officers' faces.  "Can you stand?"

Emma shook her head, but shied away when Eric tried to help her up.  "Amy?" the blonde asked softly.

Nodding, Amy struggled to her feet and held out her arms for Emma.  "Come on, baby," she said softly, guilt overwhelming her as Emma winced in pain.  She should've been able to prevent this; she was certain this was her fault.

"We have a bus on the way," the other officer, Joe, interjected.  The men helped the two women out and settled them into the squad car.  Eric conducted a quick once-over to make sure neither woman had a concussion or any open wounds.  He couldn't look Emma in the face as she pushed his hands away.

"Can you tell us what happened?" Joe asked softly.

Emma shook her head.  "He just walked up through the front door.  You didn't see him?"

Joe shook his head, looking around at the vast woods surrounding the tiny cabin.  "He could have come from anywhere."

Eric nodded, pulling his weapon back out.  "I'm gonna go look.  He couldn't have gotten far.  Secure the scene," he ordered Joe.

Tears streamed back down Emma's face as she sat silently in the squad car.  

"Emmy?" Amy whispered.  "It'll be okay."

Emma shook her head.  "I wish I could believe that.  But once again, my life has destroyed yours.  There's nothing okay about that." 

Amy stared at Emma, befuddled.  "What?"  The world seemed to slip away; the excruciating pain and horror of the past six hours receded slightly, leaving only the two of them.  "Emma, you didn't do anything.  This is not your fault," Amy emphasized, her voice taking on a panicked tone.  "And furthermore, while I'm sure this is going to leave some kind of a permanent scar - on both of us - my life isn't destroyed.  I'm still alive, and I still have you.  Those are the two most important things."

"You never should have been put in this position in the first place," Emma protested weakly.  "You shouldn't have been exposed to this, or hurt like this, Amy."

"No, I shouldn't," Amy agreed, her hand caressing the back of Emma's neck gently, "but neither should you."

Emma said nothing further, shock beginning to set in.  She began to shake so badly that she hit her hand against the car door, yelping and wincing in pain.  Joe draped an emergency blanket over her shoulders, looking down the long driveway, silently praying, along with Emma, that the emergency rescue personnel would arrive sooner rather than later.

Eric returned a few minutes later, holstering his weapon.  "No sign of him.  How you doin'?" he asked Amy, knowing just how Emma was doing.

"I don't know," Amy replied honestly, watching Emma.  A fear was settling in her stomach - fear that she had lied, that this would be the one time when everything wouldn't be okay.  "Em?" she said softly.  "Can I do anything?"  She wondered if the blonde could even hear her.

Emma shook her head, still shivering.  "We have to call Allie.  Warn her."

"Okay," Amy soothed, nodding toward Eric.  "Eric will call her."

Eric nodded, pulling out his cell phone.  Surprised he had reception this high up, he dialed Alex and Olivia's number.  "It's ringing," he said.  As a woman's voice answered, he identified himself.  "This is Officer Eric Betz.  Is this Miss Cabot?"

Olivia didn't recognize his voice or his name, and wondered immediately why a cop was calling Alex.  "No, this is Detective Olivia Benson, sixteenth precinct," she replied professionally.  "Is there something I can help you with?"

"Detective Benson, I'm on Emma Cabot's protective detail," Eric informed her.  "I'm sorry to report there's been somewhat of an incident." 

"An incident?"  Olivia's eyes narrowed as her heart began to race.  Peter can't have gotten to her.  _The detail would never...the cabin,_ Olivia realized.  Emma and Amy had declined protection for the weekend.  "What kind of incident?"  She hoped her voice was calmer than she felt.

Eric moved away from the car.  "It appears Peter Kelleher was able to walk through the woods and descend on the house.  He...assaulted Miss Cabot and Miss Hudson.  Officer Spencer and I have secured the scene, and EMS is on their way.  Miss Cabot wanted us to inform you."

"Jesus Christ," Olivia snapped, her eyes filling with tears.  "What the fuck were you doing, Betz?  How could you let this happen?  I'll have your goddamn badge for this.  You're her detail for Chrissakes."

Eric didn't reply immediately.  "Detective Benson, we were parked at the bottom of the driveway.  We did a search of the property, and deemed there was no way a vehicle could reach the house through the woods.  Not to mention the fact that Miss Cabot was extremely specific with her instructions for the weekend.  We were to be nowhere near the house, per her desire for privacy."

"I'm pretty sure if you'd interrupted her to save her from being attacked, she wouldn't have minded."

"Look, Detective, I know you're upset.  We are, too.  But how were we supposed to know Kelleher would show up here?  Very, very few people knew of the weekend plans - we did a damn good job keeping that under wraps.  It's not like we hung a big neon sign over the house that said 'Rapists Welcome'." 

"That's exactly what you did," Olivia barked.  "He probably followed you from the city.  Jesus!" she growled again.  "Let me talk to Emma."

"I don't know if she's up to that, Detective," Eric replied.  "And for the record, we would have noticed someone following us.  We're not idiots."

Ignoring his rebuttal, Olivia demanded again, "Put my sister on the phone."

Eric walked back to the squad car and knelt in front of Emma.  "Olivia would like to talk to you.  You up for that?"

Emma nodded and held out her hand.  She held the phone to her ear and hoarsely whispered a hello.

"Roo," Olivia said, tears beginning their journey down her cheeks.  "I'm so sorry.  I'm going to kill them, every single one," she promised.  "Are you ..."  She trailed off, unable to ask the clichéd question.  'Are you okay?'  Of course she wasn't.  The man who had violated her since she was tiny was back in her life; there was no way Emma could be okay.  "Be strong," Olivia finally said.  "You hear me?  You and Amy just hang on until you get back here, and then I'll take care of everything."

Emma licked her lips, readying herself for her first true use of her vocal cords since the attack.  "Don't blame them, Olivia.  They were only doing what I asked them to.  I think you and Allie should come up here.  I don't think the doctors are going to discharge me from the hospital for a few days, at least.  I...I'm hurt pretty bad."

"He didn't tell me that," Olivia murmured, her silent tears coming harder.  "We'll be there in a couple of hours.  Just hang on," she reiterated.  "Put Eric back on.  I need directions.  I love you, Em."

"Okay.  I love you, too."  Emma handed the phone back to Eric.  

"Betz here."  Eric smiled encouragingly at Emma, looking back down the driveway as sirens finally approached. 

"What's the name of the hospital they're going to?" Olivia asked quickly.  "I need directions from Manhattan."

Eric gave Olivia the quickest route to the sleepy mountain town, watching as his partner waved the ambulance up the steep incline.  He hollered over to the EMS worker, who confirmed their destination.  "Yes, Detective Benson, we're heading to Albany."

"I'll meet you there."  Olivia hung up without saying goodbye.  She took the stairs two at a time and pounded on the bedroom door.  "Alex," she called, opening the door without preamble, "get dressed.  We're going to Albany."

Alex flew into a sitting position, her t-shirt resting right under her breasts.  "What?" she sputtered, blinking herself out of her nap and into wakefulness.

"Peter attacked Emma and Amy," Olivia explained as she rummaged in the closet for clothes, tossing them to Alex.  "They're fine - well, they're alive and able to talk, I doubt they're fine," she amended.  "Emma's hurt pretty bad, but I talked to her, so I know she's coherent."  Olivia thought perhaps if she could continue talking, she could keep the tears at bay.

"Wait, wait, wait."  Alex held up her hands.  "What do you mean Peter attacked Emma?"

"He followed them to the cabin."

"Oh, my God."  Now fully awake, Alex threw the covers off her body and pulled on the jeans and turtleneck Olivia had thrown at her.  "Are they still there?  Where was the detail?"

"Parked at the bottom of the drive," Olivia scoffed angrily.  "They're heading to Albany Memorial.  We can make it in a couple of hours if we hurry."

"Shoes, I need shoes," Alex muttered, putting her hair in a sloppy ponytail.  "Jesus Christ."  She pulled on her running shoes and ran after Olivia, who was already in the car.

It took them a good two hours to get to Albany, even with Olivia's dashboard light and weekend traffic.  The two women burst through the doors at the hospital, demanding to know where Emma and Amy were.  The trauma nurse directed them to the surgical floor.

Alex flew down the corridor to the waiting room, and stopped at the nurses' station.  "I'm Alexandra Cabot.  My sister Emma and her partner, Amy Hudson, were brought in by ambulance."

The nurse, whose tag said Joyce, nodded.  "Amy has been admitted with a head laceration and a few contusions, not to mention a concussion.  Emma is in surgery for severe trauma and bleeding."

"Did you get a rape kit?" Alex asked, taking a deep breath.

Joyce nodded again.  "Yes, very quickly.  She was bleeding severely internally - we needed to get her into surgery as quickly as possible."  She came around the station and motioned for Olivia and Alex to follow her.  "Amy is resting comfortably down this hallway," she explained.  "She and Emma will share a room once Emma's out of surgery."

Amy was sitting up in bed as the two women entered, and at the sight of Emma's sisters, she averted her eyes.

Alex approached the side of the bed.  "How are you feeling?" 

"I'm fine," Amy said softly.  When she finally looked up at Alex, her deep green eyes were brimming with tears.  "I'm so sorry.  This is all my fault."

"Oh, honey," Alex said, immediately shaking her head.  "This is not your fault.  Peter did this, not you."  She reached out and took Amy's hand in hers.  "You protected Emma.  That's all you could do.  Please don't blame yourself."

"No, I didn't," Amy denied, pulling her hand back.  "I didn't do shit for her.  I was the one who convinced her to go away this weekend."

"She wanted to go," Alex argued.  "More than anything.  You can't blame yourself for Kelleher's sickness."  The blonde looked to Olivia for help.

Olivia shook her head and sank down on the bed, near Amy's feet.  "Aim, it's not your fault," she agreed.  "And blaming yourself isn't gonna help Emma.  She has a lot to overcome now, and she's done it before, but this'll be harder.  He was supposed to be out of her life, locked up for good, and the system she trusts, the system we fight for," Olivia indicated herself and Alex, "screwed her over.  She needs all of us to back her up, now more than ever."

Alex nodded in agreement.  "You're going to be there for the immediate aftermath.  She's not going to let us in right away.  She's going to need your unconditional love and support to regain her strength.  You can't do that if you're too busy beating yourself up."

Amy just shook her head silently, wiping her nose with a tissue.

Alex looked helplessly at Olivia.  "Do you want us to get mad at you?  Yell at you, blame you for this?  Is that what you want?"

"If that's how you feel," Amy murmured.  "What I really want is to rewind about three days and tell Emma to stuff it when she suggests leaving the detail home."

"I understand that," Alex replied.  "But you know Emma, stubborn to a fault.  She would have just batted her eyelashes and you would have lost anyway.  It's nothing to blame yourself about.  And we're certainly not going to blame you or get angry." 

Sighing deeply, Amy was silent for a long moment.  "Have they told you anything?  Is she out of surgery yet?"

"Didn't sound like it when we arrived," Alex said.  "I can go find out if you want."

"Would you?"  Amy sighed again.  "They won't tell me anything."

"Sure."  Alex squeezed Amy's arm and disappeared back in search of Joyce.  The two women discussed Emma's condition and prognosis briefly, and Alex returned to Amy's room, where Olivia and Amy were sitting in tense silence.

"She's in critical but stable condition at this point," Alex said, sitting down in the chair next to the bed and curling her hand around the bedrail.  "The beating and..." she cleared her throat, "the sexual assault tore her up pretty good.  They're sewing her up now.  She'll be in ICU recovery for a day or so, and then they'll move her down here to recoup with you." 

"Oh, my God," Amy breathed, horrified and relieved at the same time.  "Did they say when we can see her?"

Alex shook her head.  "Probably within the next hour or so, but Joyce said she'd come get us when she knew something for sure."

"Thanks."  Amy wiped at a few more tears and tried to calm down.

Alex tried to smile supportively, even as her own fears and tears bubbled.  "She's a fighter.  She's going to be fine."

"I hope so."

Olivia stood and slid up next to Alex, wrapping her arm around Alex's shoulders and reached for Amy's hand.  This time, the redhead allowed her fingers to curl inside the offered palm.  "Come on, guys," the detective said comfortingly.  "We all need to calm down a little, for Emma's sake, if not our own.  Okay?"  Amy nodded slowly, squeezing Olivia's hand.

"Absolutely," Alex agreed.  "I think I'm going to go find some coffee or something. You want anything?" she asked Olivia, knowing Amy was probably on only hospital food for the next few days.

"Coffee would be good."

"Sneak me a cup?" Amy begged.  "I've been on water and orange juice since I got here."

"I'll see what I can do," Alex promised, heading out into the hallway.  She leaned against the wall, covering her nose and mouth with her hands, trying to calm her nerves.  Her hands were shaking as the adrenaline that had carried her to Albany dissipated under harsh neon lighting.  She leaned her head against the wall and took a deep breath before heading to the cafeteria.

She returned ten minutes later with two large cups of coffee.  Her heart began to race as Joyce stopped her.  "Your sister's been moved to ICU," the nurse said.  "She's still out of it, probably will sleep through most of the night.  Do you and your other sister have a motel to stay in?"

Alex smiled at the reference.  "We'll find something.  Is she okay?"

Joyce shook her head slightly, and Alex feared she might drop the coffee if she fainted.  "The blood loss and trauma were very devastating to her body, Miss Cabot, I'm not going to lie to you.  The next twenty-four hours are crucial.  But she made it through surgery.  That's something."

Alex nodded.  "Thank you.  I'm going to check on Amy, and then I'll leave my cell number with you.  If anything changes tonight, you'll call me?"

Joyce nodded.  "Of course."

Alex all but ran down the hallway, cursing as the coffee sloshed over the edges of the cups and onto her hand.  She re-entered the room, handing a cup of coffee to Amy and handing the other one to Olivia.  "Joyce gave me an update on Emma." 

"What's going on?" Amy pleaded, cradling the steaming Styrofoam cup.  Olivia set hers down on a bedside table and reached for Alex's hand reflexively, recognizing the pallor of her partner's face.

"She's out of surgery," Alex replied.  "She's still unconscious, probably will be until tomorrow.  Joyce said she's in pretty bad shape; still touch and go."

"Oh, God."  Amy found herself praying to a God she hadn't believed in for years.

"Thank God," Olivia corrected, trying to maintain her strength for all of them.  "She made it this far."

"That's what Joyce said.  It's a pretty big victory for her.  I just hope they sedated her very, very heavily—I don't want her to wake up bitchy."

Amy grinned for the first time in hours, at Alex's comment.  "When does Emma wake up anything but?  I'll just be glad to see her again."  Tears filled her eyes.

Alex smiled. "Me, too."  She looked to Olivia.  "We should go get her some flowers or something.  She'll try and decorate the hospital room when she wakes up, and with our luck, pull out an IV."

Grinning slightly, Olivia nodded, glancing at Amy.  "You'll be okay?" she asked.

Amy nodded, though she doubted it.  She didn't want to burden Alex and Olivia with her own emotional issues while they were trying to deal with Emma's recovery.

"We'll go run some errands, then," Alex confirmed.  "You have my cell number in case you need anything, right?"

"Yes," Amy nodded numbly.

"And you'll call it in case you need anything, right?"

She nodded again, and Olivia leaned over, squeezing her shoulder silently.

"'Kay.  Love you," Alex said, stealing a sip of Olivia's coffee.  "Liv, can we add a side trip to Starbucks to our list?  Ugh."  She grimaced at the acidic aftertaste.

"Sure," Olivia said, as they headed out.  When they were out of earshot, she asked, "Are you okay?"

Alex shook her head without hesitation.  "My sister is in ICU, raped by the man who has traumatized her since age eight, and a man who was supposed to be rotting in jail.  She may not recover from her injuries.  Her lover, whom I consider somewhat of a surrogate sister, watched her endure these atrocities, and now has to deal with both physical and emotional pain.  So no, I'm not okay."

Olivia watched Alex for a long moment, trying to hold her temper.  "You know that's not what I meant.  I meant, do you need to stop and scream?  Hit me?  Cry?  Or should I just keep supplying you with coffee and Krispy Kremes?"

Alex chuckled.  "The scariest part about this, Olivia, is that this is old hat for me.  I feel nothing but a sense of 'to do'.  What kind of heartless monster does that make me?"

"You're just trying to survive," Olivia reasoned, as they made their way to the car.  "I know you, Allie.  It'll hit you soon, when the coffee and adrenaline wear off."

"Probably. And I'll cry those sobs that scare the shit out of you," Alex replied, pulling the car keys from her pocket and handing them to Olivia.  "I'll ask you and God why this happened again, and spew hatred for Peter, threaten to kill him.  And then I'll go take a bath, wash my face, and put on a brave front for Emma.  Because at the end of the day, that's who matters in this scenario.  That poor girl.  I don't know how she does it.  I'm not sure I want to." 

Olivia knew how she did it, all too well - the same way she, Alex and Elliot, and everyone else in their squad, had done it for years.  You do what has to be done simply because if you don't, it won't get done.  In Emma's case, it was a matter of doing what needed to be done to stay alive.

As Olivia started the car, Alex held her hands in front of the radiators, waiting for the heat to warm her hands.  "Do you think we should drive back to the city, get some of Emma's things and come back up tomorrow, when she's awake?"

"Whatever you want to do, sweetie."  Olivia pulled out of the parking lot.  "She and Amy are in good hands, though, so I think it's safe."  She wondered if she even knew what that word meant anymore.

"I think that might be nice," Alex said after a minute, "letting her wake up with her own stuff around her.  Maybe get the portable DVD player and some movies for Amy.  Staring at Emma is only good enough for so long."

Nodding, Olivia pulled into the Starbucks drive-through.

* * *

It was nice to sleep in her own bed that night, Alex mused as she spooned Olivia in their bed, raining kisses on the detective's neck and back.  In a life marred by fear, this was the one situation Alexandra felt the least scared.  She tightened her grip around Olivia's middle and raised her mouth near the detective's ear.  "I love you."

"I love you, too," Olivia murmured.  "Don't stop."

Alex chuckled, but continued her ministrations, pulling down Olivia's tank top for better access.  "So do you think we packed enough for the kids?" she joked, thinking of the two large suitcases sitting in their living room, ready to go back to Albany in the morning.

"Yup," Olivia half-moaned.  "They'll be set for weeks."

Alex suckled on Olivia's ear and neck.  "I didn't need to see all her sexy lingerie, though.  Definitely TMI." 

"You insisted on packing her suitcase," Olivia pointed out, leaning back into Alex's feather-light touch.  "Honey, that's incredible."

"Well, I thought one piece would be an incentive for recovery," Alex defended, moving her lips back towards Olivia's spine.  "Is this going to be one of those situations where if I stop, you'll remind me of your big gun and ability to stage a suicide?"

"Yes," Olivia chuckled softly.  "Unless you're tired, then go ahead and stop."

"Nah, I think I can keep my eyes open for a few minutes longer," Alex replied, lowering her mouth to Olivia's skin.  She rubbed her hands over the brunette's arms, smiling against her shoulder blade.  "Goosebumps?"

"Told you I liked that," Olivia murmured.  "My way of showing my appreciation."

"Anything to make you happy," Alex whispered back, tightening her grip around the detective's slender waist.  She nipped at Olivia's skin lightly, then suckled the area she'd bitten.  She rolled her tongue over parts of the detective's back, sliding the tank strap down for better access to the brunette's collarbone.

Groaning audibly, Olivia shivered in delight.  "Are you sure you wanna be doing this?"

"Why wouldn't I want to do this?" 

"Because your sister and her partner are in a hospital upstate," Olivia pointed out.

"What effect is that supposed to have on my lips or desire to be with you?"  Alex leaned away from Olivia.  "Emma is alive.  I can't ask for anything more than that." 

"I'm just checking," Olivia murmured.

"Do you want me to stop?" Alex asked, resting her head on Olivia's shoulder.

"Never."

"Good."  Alex continued her kisses, her hand sliding up and down Olivia's back, nails scraping slightly.  "Do you think she's going to die?"

"No," Olivia exclaimed, surprised, as she rolled to face Alex.  "Not a chance."

"Here comes the deluge," Alex warned, sighing deeply.  "I'm really scared she might, Olivia.  I mean, she never listens to us.  And we keep telling ourselves and each other she's going to be fine.  She'd die just to spite us."

"No, she wouldn't," Olivia said, wrapping Alex in a tight embrace.  "Emma's not going anywhere until she's drained us of every penny in the form of jewelry."

Alex laughed genuinely, kissing Olivia's neck.  "You're right.  I guess I'm just trying to prepare myself for seeing her tomorrow.  It's going to be awful." 

"It is," Olivia agreed, squeezing her partner a little tighter.  There was nothing she could say to mitigate that fact, and she wasn't about to start lying to Alex at this juncture.

Alex rested her chin on Olivia's shoulder.  "I wonder if the locals will start an investigation, or if they'll turn jurisdiction over to you."

"Cragen'll fight tooth and nail for it," Olivia guessed, snuggling closer to Alex.

"Would you really want that investigation?" Alex asked, curling her foot around Olivia's ankle and wedging her thigh between Olivia's legs.

Shrugging, the detective began trailing kisses over Alex's collarbone.  "At least I'd feel like I'm helping her."

Alex tilted her neck, allowing Olivia free rein.  "You help her already," she reminded the detective.  "You strike that balance between affectionate support and reality.  You're the one that pushes her to get on with her life after things like this happen.  That's the greatest help you could ever give her."

Shaking her head mutely, Olivia continued her ministrations on the soft skin of Alex's neck and shoulders.

"I would like it noted for the record that I'm not pressing you on this subject because my brain shut down the minute your mouth started on my skin," the blonde informed her partner.  She whimpered slightly as Olivia suckled her neck, and her hand curled reflexively around the brunette's waist.

* * *

The alarm went off far too soon, and Alex had to disentangle herself from her lover's embrace to stop the incessant buzzing.  She rested her head back on the pillow and watched Olivia sleep for a few minutes more.  Finally, she yawned and spoke softly.  "Baby, it's time to get up."

Stretching slowly, Olivia winced.  "Jeez, I'm sore."

Alexandra arched her back, the covers falling off her chest to mid-stomach.  "God, me, too.  Don't tell me we're too old for this." 

"Never," Olivia threatened.  "If we ever get too old for sex, shoot me."  She slid out of bed and groaned softly.  "It was so worth it."

"Totally worth it," Alex agreed.  "You think a hot shower and massage might help you?" she asked softly, heading into their bathroom, leaving the door open in invitation. 

Olivia followed quickly, and as a result, it took them an hour longer to get ready, but they did, and finally set out for Albany.

* * *

Joyce knocked lightly on the hospital door.  "Good morning," she greeted Amy, checking the monitors and Amy's IV flow.  "I'm surprised it's so quiet in here this morning."

"Emma's sisters haven't arrived yet," Amy explained, eyeing the IV in distaste.  "Any chance I can cut the cord today?" she asked hopefully.

"You're looking fairly good," Joyce replied, "but your final tests haven't come back yet.  We'll have to wait on those before any decisions are made.  You will, however, be getting a roommate later this morning." 

Amy's eyes lit up, and she pelted Joyce with questions. "Emma's awake? When can I see her?  Is she okay?"

"Well, she's off sedation," Joyce replied with a chuckle.  "She's improved considerably, but it's still touch and go for at least the next two days.  She's not coherent or speaking yet, but I have a feeling moving her in here will work wonders on that."

"Can I see her now?  Please?" Amy begged.  "I don't want her to get scared, thinking I'm not here."

Joyce considered it for a minute.  Finally, she relented.  "I don't see why not," she replied.  "Let me go find a wheelchair and I'll take you to her room in ICU."

She returned a few minutes later, finding Amy up and ready to go.  With a shake of her head, but a gentle smile, Joyce helped Amy into the wheelchair, and they started off to ICU.

When they entered the room, Amy couldn't contain her soft gasp of dismay.  "Oh, God, Emmy."  She did manage to hold the tears back as Joyce wheeled her to the edge of the bed.  The redhead slid her hand under Emma's limp fingers and whispered, "Hi, baby."

"She's still pretty out of it," Joyce said silently, adjusting Amy's IV to make sure it didn't tangle with Emma's.  "But talk to her.  She can hear you; you just need to draw her back to consciousness."  She patted Amy on the shoulder.  "I have to get back downstairs.  Just let the duty nurse up here know when you're ready to come back down.  And I'll let Miss Cabot's sisters know you're up here, all right?"

"Yes, thanks," Amy replied distractedly.  When Joyce had left, Amy wheeled herself as close to the bed as possible.  "Emmy, it's me.  Amy.  I'm here, babe.  I—I just wanted you to know, in case you woke up and didn't see me.  I'm probably in the bathroom or something.  You know me and my tiny bladder, and now they've got me on a saline drip, so I'm peeing every half hour," she babbled.

"How is that different from every day?" Emma whispered hoarsely, eyes still heavy and closed.

"Oh, God!" Amy giggled in relief.  "Are you okay?"

Emma licked her lips.  "I hurt.  Really dizzy and nauseous."

"I'm sorry, baby.  You want me to call the nurse?"

Emma managed to shake her head.  "No more nurses.  No more pokey needles.  Just sleep.  You okay?" 

"I'm fine."  Tears slid unnoticed down Amy's cheeks.  "You go back to sleep.  I'm right here."

Emma gathered enough strength to squeeze Amy's fingers.  "I love you, baby."

"I love you, too."

* * *

"I hate you!" Emma tossed her sweaty bangs off her forehead, gripping the steel bars until her knuckles were white.  Her voice was hoarse from groaning and yelling, and she glared at Amy, who watched her face with amusement.

"You do not," Amy replied calmly, reaching out to tuck Emma's hair behind her ear.  "You love me.  Come on, just a few more steps and then you can take a shower and eat lunch."

The physical therapy had been hard on Emma, Amy knew, but in a way, it had also been great for her.  She was stronger than ever, her internal injuries healing almost as quickly as her external ones.  Peter had taken great pleasure in beating Emma until there was hardly a spot on her beautiful body left unbruised, much like Mark had done to her sister the year before.  Unlike his partner in crime, however, Peter had also made certain that Emma's bones did not escape his torture.  He had beaten the blonde so severely that she came away with hairline fractures of the fibula in both legs, and her left kneecap shattered.  It was only on a swell of adrenaline that Emma had made it from the cabin to the ambulance.  When she'd attempted to step out of the detail's police cruiser to walk to the ambulance, her cracked bones had given out, and if Amy and Eric hadn't caught her, Emma would've fallen onto the dirt.

"Come on, stop being such a baby," Amy bargained.  "You remember that diamond bracelet you saw on Zales.com and begged me to buy you?"

Emma licked her upper lip, then wiped it with her sleeve to rid herself of the sweat.  "What about it?" she asked, trying to take another step forward.

Amy took a step toward Emma, hoping to make the distance seem a little shorter.  "If you get through this week and Dr. Patel says you reached your PT goals for the month, that baby is yours," she promised.

Emma looked down at her feet, willing them to move forward.  "You can't afford that," she protested, gasping as her left leg buckled underneath her.  She looked at the clock - thirty minutes into the session, right on schedule to do that.  She raised herself back up and straightened it on her own, grimacing and whimpering only slightly as she did so.  She gathered herself as best she could and started again.

"That's it," Amy said, under her breath, ready to catch Emma if her leg gave out again.  It had been happening less frequently, Amy was happy to note.  "Afford it or not," she said in a normal voice, "it's yours if you make it to the thirtieth.  Hey, the thirtieth," she repeated, hoping to take Emma's mind off the pain.  "It's almost December, and you haven't made Christmas plans with your sisters yet."

"I need to get through Thanksgiving first," Emma replied after a minute, having gritted her teeth to take another step forward.  The three months of physical therapy had been hell, pure and unadulterated.  A stubborn, restless soul, Emma had wanted to jump head first into a recovery plan after Peter's attack.  But her internal injuries had nearly killed her, and they needed a month to heal on their own.  The time off, which was spent cooped up in Amy's apartment and bed, had immobilized her even more.  Friends had told her she should have been in a rehabilitation center, but Emma would have none of it.  She wanted to be home, somewhere safe and trusted.  Now, as November drew to a close, she was recovering nicely, and had learned some form of patience during her tenure as a patient.  "I'm cooking, you know.  I have to figure out how to make your shoebox of a kitchen work for Thanksgiving dinner."

Resisting the urge to forbid Emma's taking on a task of that magnitude - which she knew would just make the blonde more determined - Amy nodded noncommittally.  "You're gonna put me to work, right?" she offered.  "You can sit and chop things and supervise."

"We'll see," Emma replied.  She was less than a foot away from where Amy stood, and she lifted her right hand off the bar.  "Look, Ma, no hands," she joked, removing her left hand from the support.  "You ready to catch me?" she asked, referring to their deal of the week.  While the physical therapists had their own goals for Emma, the partners had come up with their own.  This week, it was the blonde walking at least part of the way without holding on.  It was their biggest challenge to date, and it had failed in the three previous tries.  Despite the setbacks and intense pain, Emma forged ahead, swallowing her fear as she held out her arms to Amy like a child.

"I'm always ready for you, baby," Amy flirted, her heart in her throat.  "Think diamonds.  Big, pretty diamonds."

Emma had to put her hand back on the support as her knee shook.  "With matching earrings to go with your bracelet and Allie and Liv's pendant from a few years ago," she replied.  "Okay."  She took a deep breath and shuffled forward.  Her weak knee gave out and she fell toward the ground, catching herself on the bar.  "Shit!"

Amy's arms shot out as she leapt forward to support Emma.  "It's okay," she soothed.  "You made it that time, I saw you. You took a full step.  By Christmas, you're gonna be skiing."

Emma grunted as Amy helped her back into a standing position.  She leaned against the bar, panting.  "I just don't want any more surgeries, you know?  But it feels weaker than it did at the beginning.  Maybe I'm pushing too hard."

Amy nodded slowly.  "You know your body best.  How 'bout we quit for today and we'll re-evaluate tomorrow?"

Emma nodded, lifting up her weak leg as Amy helped her hobble along and step down from the PT walkway.  She leaned onto her crutches and headed into the big shower area in the hospital facility.  She sat on the oversized seat, pulling off her t-shirt as Amy undid her sneakers for her.  "What did you want to do for Christmas?"

"Whatever you want, Em," Amy said, tugging at the blonde's socks.  One of the many advantages of being a lesbian couple, she thought, was that no one blinked twice if you wanted to help your limited-mobility partner undress and shower.  "I was thinking just a small thing on Christmas Day with Olivia and Alex, maybe Erin, too?  Nothing fancy."

"That sounds nice, although I'm not sure I want anyone to know how naughty I've been," Emma joked, winking.  "Then maybe we can leave for the trip on Christmas Day.  I was thinking Saint John's this year."  She lifted her hips and let Amy draw the shorts off her body, discarding them with the other 'workout' clothes.  Clad only in her underwear and sports bra, she lifted herself up and used the crutches to park herself in front of one of the shower stalls.  She stuck her hand in and turned on the water, waiting until it was of adequate temperature before sitting on the stool and wetting her hair.

Amy stepped into the shower, closing the curtain and avoiding the spray but getting close enough to Emma to reach for her underwear.  "Hips up," she instructed, completing the now-familiar routine.  "Saint John's would be great, but..."  Amy paused, hating to ask the question.  "Are you sure you're up for a flight that long?"

Emma wiped the water from her eyes.  "You know, I thought I might walk.  Good exercise for the old stumps here," she wiggled her toes near Amy's face.  "I think I'll be fine," she replied seriously, reaching for the travel size shampoo and squirting some in her palm.  "You'll get on the plane first, traveling with me," she reasoned, working it through her long hair.  "I'll get the wheelchair service, and we'll get the little cart to drive us around the airport.  It's like traveling first class without ever setting foot on the plane."

"Okay," Amy agreed reluctantly, "if your docs okay it, I'm game for sinking myself further into hock to accommodate your every whim and desire, my love."

"Good girl.  Hand me the shower gel, would you?"  Emma tossed the shampoo into their little travel bag and lifted off her sports bra.

Passing the tiny bottle of gel, Amy admired Emma's slender body, naked for her perusal.  Although she was now the more round of the two remaining Cabot sisters (and had been for a couple of years, truth be told), the month in bed had been counteracted by the exertion of physical therapy the past two months.  Emma was in great shape, probably better than ever, and Amy's green eyes took in every curve of porcelain skin greedily.  Fortunately for the redhead, even the breadth of her injuries couldn't stop Emma's voracious appetite for Amy, and with some small modifications, they'd been able to continue much as they'd started - insatiably.

Oblivious, the blonde squirted some of the gel into her loofah and quickly washed her body, eager to get out of what she was sure could pass as a seventh grade science project - _just how clean were New York City's hospitals? _she wondered.  She rinsed the loofah off and looked at Amy.  "Rinse," she requested, holding her arms out to the redhead for assistance.

"Kiss," Amy bargained, leaning forward.

Emma chuckled, but happily obliged, gently taking Amy's mouth under hers.  She cupped the redhead's chin, brushing her hand down Amy's neck.  There were truly no words for how grateful Emma was to have her lover by her side, especially during the past three months.  The blonde knew the redhead wasn't much for public displays or declarations of love - she was freakishly like Olivia that way - so Emma made it her goal to show her thanks in little ways.

"Thank you," Amy declared when Emma pulled away, holding out her arms for the blonde to pull herself up.

"My pleasure," Emma crooned, lifting her body against the redhead's.  She brushed her hand down Amy's body, cupping her through her mesh shorts.  "Or should I say it's yours?" she teased.  She turned in Amy's strong arms, cleaning herself off.  "All done," she announced, leaning in for another kiss.  "Thanks."

"Welcome," Amy squeaked, then cleared her throat.  "Let's get going.  I promised you lunch, and you're paying."

Emma laughed, leaning behind her and turning off the water.  "Seeing as I haven't worked in three months, I think we can afford the soup kitchen today."  Amy handed her a towel and she dried off, pulling on a pair of black stretch pants and a gray lambswool turtleneck sweater.  She grimaced as she pulled her hair into a ponytail and slid her feet into a pair of sandals.  "Jesus, I need a haircut.  I'm starting to look like Crystal Gayle." 

Chuckling, Amy tucked Emma's workout sneakers into their bag.  "We can go tomorrow," she offered.  "The clinic's closed for fumigating, so I can stay home and work on my thesis, or you and I can hit the town.  Guess which I choose."

"Sandals in November.  What the hell was I thinking?" Emma muttered, guiding herself up and crutching out into the hallway.  "Hit the town?" she queried, checking for Amy over her shoulder.  "Maybe we can go to Tiffany's and pick out a proper tennis bracelet."

"You were thinking 'easy on, easy off'.  Or is that 'wax on, wax off'?"  Amy giggled, following Emma out toward the cab stand in front of the hospital.  "Tiffany's?  You forget, I'm a struggling doctoral student, non-profit clinic employee and part-time bartender.  We're talking Zales clearance rack."

"I know," Emma replied, easing herself into a waiting taxi.  "You know you don't have to do anything of the sort.  You do enough as it is."

"Ah, hush up.  I promised, and I'll deliver if you come through on your end."

Emma chuckled.  "You should save your hard earned money, babe.  I'm expecting a big wedding, lots of kids, and they're all going to be as spoiled as I am.  Your income's in trouble."

Her stomach twisted in knots, but Amy just grinned.  "How big are we talking?  Ten grand?"

"Probably.  Vera Wang dress, Tavern on the Green - did you see the Wedding Story they did there for the owner's daughter?  Wow.  Not to mention the whole kid thing."  Emma massaged her knee as the cabbie rode into midtown traffic, and it only hit her after they crossed Lexington Avenue just what their conversation meant.  Their easy camaraderie fooled Emma every now and again, lulled her into a sense of complete and utter emotional relaxation, something she'd never allowed herself to luxuriate in with previous relationships.  She cleared her throat, head down as she intently stared at the faded carpet in the cab.  "Never mind," she deflected lamely.  

"Hey," Amy said, gently bumping Emma's shoulder with her own.  "It's cool.  I'm with you all the way."  The cab pulled up in front of Amy's building and she stepped out to help Emma.

Emma slid out of the cab and allowed Amy to pull her into a standing position long enough to prop herself back up on the crutches she'd happily burn once she was fully healed.  After Amy tipped the driver and helped her toward the front door and the elevator, Emma spoke up, her voice timid.  "You're with me all the way in reference to what, exactly?"

"Matching rings.  Kids.  Picket fence."

"You want that?  With me?"  

"Yup," Amy replied simply, opening the door to her apartment and stepping inside, holding it open.

"Really?"  Emma hobbled inside and all but threw herself down on the couch.  She bent over at the waist to take off her shoes and she leaned against the pillows, her body screaming obscenities at her for its day of physical therapy.

"Yes, really.  How many different ways can I say it?" Amy chuckled.  "Yes, si, oui, ja, yup, mmhmm, definitely, positively, indubitably."

"Screw you," Emma retorted with a grin.  "I'm just surprised, that's all.  We haven't ever discussed our future, let alone specifically with each other."

"You've been my girl since before you knew it," Amy retorted, dropping her bag by the door and heading for the kitchen.  She came back with two bottles of water and handed one to Emma.  "Six months, no bloodshed.  Not a bad record."

"Definitely better than my previous runs," Emma agreed.  "God, I hurt," she said after taking a long drink of the offered water.

"I'm sorry, baby. You need a Percoset?" Amy leaned forward, ready to jump up and grab the bottle of pain meds.

Emma shook her head.  "No, we'll let it be for a minute.  If I don't feel better in a few, I'll take half a pill.  Thanks, though." 

"Okay.  Stop thanking me," Amy ordered.  "It's my job."

Emma chuckled, taking another sip of her drink and lifting her left leg onto the stack of her pillows perched on the coffee table.  "You've gone above and beyond the call of duty.  And don't argue with me," she ordered back.  "You've sacrificed everything for me these past few months, been my foundation.  I'm allowed to thank you once and a while, okay?  So shut up!"

"You shut up," Amy shot back, "but you're welcome!  It's really been my pleasure."

"Well, your sexual favors are the best around," Emma smiled, closing her eyes.  "Okay, I think I might actually need that pill."

"Okay, sit tight."  Amy leapt up and strode into the bedroom, grabbing the pills and dumping one out into her palm.  She handed it to Emma with a smile.  "You wanna go lie down?"

Emma took the pill and followed it with a long swig of water.  "I'm not sure if I can move right now," she replied softly.  "My leg's really bad, and so is my back."

"Massage?" Amy offered.  "Or you just want a blanket so you can lie down here?"

"A massage would be lovely, I think," Emma replied, lifting her leg down.  "I'm going to cry," she warned Amy, "when you hit that spot in the middle of the back.  You okay with that?"  She remembered back to her first weeks after PT and the chronic pain that came with recovery.  Amy had tried to help, and had helped, but had been so freaked out when Emma howled out, in tears, that Amy started to cry as well.  Both women felt horrible, and Emma had taken it upon herself to warn her partner of any potential situations like that.

"Okay."  Amy settled in behind Emma and began a slow, gentle massage of the slight expanse of the blonde's back.  "Tell me if I press too hard," the redhead instructed, although Emma had long ago taken that instruction to heart.

Emma nodded, creating a pillow out of her arms and resting her head.  She closed her eyes as Amy's fingers touched her skin.  She whimpered as the redhead kneaded near her spine, which tended to hold the greatest pain.  She concentrated on her breathing, exhaling heavily as Amy pressed down.  "Can you do my legs, too?" the blonde asked in a strained whisper. 

"Sure, baby.  Now?" Amy asked.

Emma nodded.  "My lower back and upper thighs are worst right now," she confirmed.

"Okay," Amy replied, wincing as she heard the pain seeping through Emma's normally stoic voice.  She stood and slipped into the other seat, lifting the blonde's legs onto her lap slowly and beginning to knead Emma's thighs, careful of her bad knee.

Emma hissed as Amy's hands started up again.  "It hasn't been this bad in a while.  Not since my genius idea to go to the bathroom without my crutches that one night."

"Should I call someone?" Amy worried.

Emma shook her head.  "Not right now.  If I don't feel better after dinner with Olivia and Alex, we'll stop by the ER or call Dr. Nyland.  Just keep doing what you're doing," she encouraged Amy.

Amy nodded reluctantly.  "Okay.  Did we decide where we're going for dinner?"

Emma continued her focused breathing through the blinding pain, and didn't answer Amy for a minute or two.  "I was thinking Japanese," she finally answered.  "I have a craving for sushi."  She whimpered loudly as Amy worked her left leg, and tears sprang to her eyes.  She curled her knuckles around the edge of the couch, cursing Peter Kelleher to hell and eternal damnation again. 

"It's okay," Amy murmured soothingly.  "Couple more minutes and your pain pill will kick in."  She, too, was cursing Peter mentally.  If Amy ever saw his face again, she'd kill him.  She was certain of it.

"Yup."  Emma's voice was strained as Amy continued.  Finally, Emma had to reach around and stop the ministrations.  "I think that's all I can take right now.  Thanks."

"Okay. You want to take a bath?" Amy offered.  "Might help your muscles relax."

Emma nodded after a minute.  "Will you come with me?  Make sure my knee doesn't swell?" 

"Sure," Amy grinned.  "Come on."  She stood and held her hands out to Emma.

Emma rolled over slowly, body and heart aching.  She slid her hand into Amy's and let the redhead lead her to the bathroom.  She undressed slowly as her lover filled the bathtub, the steam rising from the porcelain and encircling them both like the Mists of Avalon.  As the bathtub filled, Emma watched as Amy slid into the warm water and held out her hand again to help the blonde in.  Emma sat gently back against Amy, the hot water seeping into her screaming, pained muscles.  She groaned and lolled her head back against the redhead's shoulder, trying to relax. 

"That's a'girl," Amy encouraged, kneading Emma's shoulders gently.  "Give the water a chance to work on those poor muscles."  She let the silence linger for a moment, before brushing Emma's earlobe with her lips and murmuring, "I'm really proud of you, baby.  I don't know how you do it."

Emma smiled, closing her eyes.  "I'm just trying to survive.  It's no different than what hundreds of thousands of other people do each day, many of them worse off than me."

Amy shook her head with a soft smile, kissing Emma's neck in between her words.  "That's just it, though.  You take all of this in stride, you hardly ever complain.  It's amazing."

"I don't feel like I have much of a choice, you know?"  Emma shrugged, forcing Amy's lips back up to right below her ear, causing the blonde to shiver.  "To complain or wallow more than I do would be like giving him the victory in this.  It would give him even more satisfaction, to know I can't move past that afternoon."

"You're incredible," Amy affirmed.  "Extraordinary.  It just seems like you're handling this better than even I could hope to."

Emma reached back and drew Amy's arms around her.  "You know I couldn't have done this without you.  I owe my success - such that it is - to you just as much as I do to the Cabot stubborn streak."

Amy shrugged in embarrassment, squeezing Emma gently.  "When you're feeling better, you can make me your famous stuffing.  Deal?"

Emma grinned.  "We're going to have to get a list together so I can start Thanksgiving preparation a few days in advance.  That way, I won't tire myself out on the actual Turkey Appreciation Day, but we can still have a great meal.  You up to grocery shopping with the old gimp?"

"Absolutely.  Do I get to drive the little motorized cart?"

"We can have races up and down the aisles," Emma confirmed.  "Totally piss off all the little old ladies."

"Sweet.  Before we go to dinner, we can start on the list," Amy suggested.  "I'm not a complete amateur at holiday meal prep, either, so it ought to go pretty quickly."

"Excellent," Emma agreed, resting her hands on Amy's thighs.  "It'll be so nice to cook a full meal again.  Almost normal." 

"You were never normal."

"Thanks for reminding me," Emma replied with a dramatic sigh.  "Trying to be normal would just add too much pressure to an already stressful situation."

Laughing genuinely, Amy bent her head to kiss Emma's neck thoroughly.  "That's my girl."

THE END


	21. Shelter

"Amy." Emma's whisper was soft and breathy next to her lover's ear. She wrapped her arm around the redhead's waist and shook her gently. "Amy, wake up."

"Mmm," Amy murmured, rolling over and snuggling in deeper beside Emma. "Shh."

"Amy, it's snowing." Emma's voice was reverent but giddy. "It's the first snow. You have to come see it."

"Snow?" Amy perked up, opening one eye. She slid out of bed and scrambled, shivering, to find her pajamas.

Emma was already dressed in her flannel penguin pajamas, having gotten up in the middle of the night to tend to the searing pain in her knee. She made her way quickly on her crutches and stood on their balcony, breathing in the scent of the snow. The city was dark and quiet, and the flakes fluttered down softly around her.

Amy slipped out onto the balcony and wrapped her arms around Emma's waist, mirroring her deep breath. "God, I love the smell of snow."

"Me, too," Emma murmured. "Something so pure in a world so tainted."

"By my lesbianism?" Amy teased, hissing in Emma's ear with a grin.

Emma laughed heartily. "Sick, Amy. Sick, sick, sick."

Amy chuckled and squeezed Emma tightly. "I try. So how excited are you about Christmas?"

Emma's smile faded ever so slightly. "It hasn't really sunk in yet, you know? I'm still on my one-day-at-a-time kick, just trying to get through. I haven't thought that far in advance."

"Okay," Amy agreed quietly. "I just thought maybe you'd start bugging me to tell you what I got you."

"You still have twenty shopping days until Christmas," Emma replied pragmatically. "You haven't done your shopping yet. You're always out with all the men on Christmas Eve, trying to pick stuff up."

"For your information," Amy huffed indignantly, "I pulled an Alex and bought your gifts six months ago."

Emma leaned back and caught her lover's eye. "Really?"

"Yup," Amy affirmed, "about two weeks after our first date. I figured if we didn't work out, I could save it for the next chick," she teased.

Emma laughed, returning her eyes to the streets below. "Like you ever had any doubt we'd work out."

Amy shook her head, her breath tickling Emma's ear. "Not a one. Did you?"

Emma squeezed Amy's hand as it rested on her stomach. "It's the one thing in my life I've ever been completely sure about." She turned her head as a plow started down the street. "No!" she called out. "Go away!"

"Aw," the redhead sympathized, "at least we'll have snowbanks to play in later."

"We'll have to call Alex and Olivia, get a proper snowball war started." They stood for a few more minutes before Emma nudged her back against Amy's stomach. "The cold is locking up my knee. We should go in."

"'Kay." Amy turned and released Emma slowly, tugging the sliding glass door open. "So you mean to tell me that you haven't started your Christmas shopping?" she asked, heading for the kitchen.

"Nope," Emma replied. Reclaiming her perch on the couch and wrapping herself up in an afghan, she took a sip of the hot cocoa she'd made before she woke Amy up. "I have my list done, though; all I need to do is gather up enough strength to go out and physically get them."

Amy hid her wince at Emma's words by turning toward the stove and gathering the ingredients for pancakes. "Well, if you need help, I'm not on call this weekend. We can hit Target and the mall."

"You're making pancakes at four in the morning? Just make sure they're chocolate chip," Emma requested, curling her hand around her oversized mug. "We can also do some next weekend, see how we feel after spending way too much the first day."

"Jesus Christ," Amy exclaimed, dropping the scoopful of dry mix back into the bag. "You asshole! You woke me at four a.m. to see snow?"

"Um, yeah?" Emma chuckled. "You didn't realize it was pitch black outside, babe?"

"The streetlights distracted me. I thought it was, like, six-thirty. Goddamn, you're insane." Amy set the milk back in the fridge and stifled a yawn. "I'm going back to bed."

"Night," Emma replied, taking another sip of her cocoa. "I'll wake you at seven."

"Aw, come on," Amy pleaded, batting dark lashes over her deep green eyes, "you're not gonna come snuggle with me?"

Emma smiled gently. "I need to keep my leg elevated for a little while longer, sweetheart," she explained. "It's easier out here."

Amy nodded decisively, plopping gently onto the couch beside Emma. "Well, then, you're just going to have to snuggle me out here," she declared.

"I would love to," Emma replied, setting her mug on the coffee table and lifting her arm up, allowing Amy to rest her head on her shoulder. She pulled the afghan off her shoulders and draped it over their laps, leaning back against the couch. She ran her fingers lightly through Amy's loose hair as the redhead drifted back to sleep.

When Amy awoke two hours later, Emma was still playing with her hair. The redhead craned her neck to grin up at her blonde partner. "You're a dork," she declared sleepily.

Emma chuckled. "Of course," she replied softly, kissing her lover's head. "Is your neck okay? You slept at a funny angle."

"Yeah, you're a great pillow." Amy sat up and stretched languidly. "So what's our plan for today?"

"Pancakes, Gilmore Girls and maybe a trip to Gables in the afternoon. I have to work on the books," Emma replied, moving her leg gingerly to the floor. "Oh, and we're having dinner with the girls," she added. There was no need to specify **which** girls – it was always Olivia and Alex.

"Okay," Amy agreed, far too easily. "I'll drop you off on my way to the clinic. I've got one patient this morning and then I'm making the most of my half-day off. This place needs a good scrubbing."

"Oh, I love you," Emma replied with a smile. "Don't forget to vacuum around the dryer. I think I dropped a lint trap or two down the side." She held out her hands. "Help me up?"

Amy reached down and tugged on Emma's hands with an audible groan. "Girl, you have to lay off the brownies," she teased with a grin.

Emma chuckled. "I'm smaller than I was two months ago," she corrected her girlfriend. "Dr. Nyland thinks I could gain a little weight in muscle, might make my leg stronger."

"Brownies are not the key to muscles," Amy lectured. "Protein and exercise."

"Jesus, you have one brownie and the whole world rains down on you. I think I deserve a little Betty Crocker love after everything I've been through," Emma argued.

"My love is much more satisfying," Amy replied with a grin, ready to escort Emma to the bedroom, "and not nearly as fattening. In fact, you burn calories."

Emma chuckled, reaching her arms out. As Amy latched on and pulled her off the couch, the blonde grunted. "I will be so happy when this stupid knee has healed completely and I can retire my gimp mode."

"I kinda like you dependent," Amy chuckled, using her free hand to pass the blonde her crutches. "Means you have to be nice to me. And you've been ever-so-horny," the redhead laughed. "Think that's connected?"

Emma shook her head. "I don't know. You should do a study on me. I could use that grant money."

"I should," she agreed, and as Emma leaned on her crutches, Amy leaned in to kiss her thoroughly. "Now, someone needs a shower. You stink."

---------------------------------------------

"Alex, I can't find the icicle lights," Olivia called, raising her voice to be heard over the Trans-Siberian Orchestra. Once again, she cursed herself for surprising Alex with a surround sound stereo for their anniversary. "Ow!" she added under her breath, as tiny teeth sank playfully into her socked foot. "Dammit, you," the detective growled, reaching down and lifting the tiny kitten to eye level. She shook the furball gently, complaining, "Stop eating my toes." Bailey's only reply was to swat at Olivia's nose.

"Did you say something?" Alex called from the foyer, where she was stringing garland around their banister.

"The icicle lights," Olivia repeated, "the ones we bought for the front porch. Where'd you put 'em?"

"They're in the Target bag in the living room," Alex replied, moving into the family room and saving Olivia's feet from the tiny purrball. "Have you decided what we're doing for your birthday yet?"

"I thought this was my present," Olivia grinned, digging through the bag. "Letting me decorate before Christmas Eve, I mean."

Alex chuckled. "Did you decide if you wanted a tree in the foyer? I'm almost done with the garland; I could start on that while you figure this thing out."

Olivia had icicle lights draped over every available appendage, the couch, and half the hardwood floor. "Maybe just the little fake one you had in your old place."

"Okay," Alex agreed. "Good Lord, it looks like Christmas threw up on this place."

"Maybe it just gagged really hard."

The blonde laughed, putting Bailey back on the floor. "Okay, so you're taking care of the outdoor lights. I'm finishing up the garland and will put up the foyer tree, and then we'll decorate the big tree later. Is there anything else we need to do?"

"Well," Olivia began, still sorting lights, "that sounds like it for our place, but Amy called while you were in the shower. She wants to surprise Emma by decorating their apartment while Em's at Gables. You interested in helping?"

"Isn't that tantamount to suicide?" Alex asked, pulling the box containing her fake Charlie Brown-style tree out of the Christmas pile that had overtaken their family room. "She loves decorating in her own Emma style."

"I know." Olivia's throaty voice was tinged with sadness. "Amy just doesn't think she's up to it this year, and I have to agree. This way, we can pass it off as a nice gesture, and she won't have to admit there are some things she still can't do."

"I guess," Alex replied, sitting on the edge of their couch, careful of the lights and plugs. "It feels a bit like we're undermining her, though. Not even letting her try..."

"You may be right," the detective conceded, meeting Alex's eyes over the mess of lights crowding their couch. "You think we ought to just offer to help them both decorate tonight?"

"What was Amy thinking of doing? The lights, the tree, both?"

"I think the lights and basic decoration, maybe put the tree up and get it lit. She knows how Emmy feels about the ornaments, though. That's off-limits," Olivia grinned. "She can order us around from the couch on how to put those up."

"I think that might be okay," Alexandra conceded. "She mentioned last week that she wasn't sure Amy could put up all the lights herself. So we could go over there on the pretense of helping Amy, rather than again telling Emma she's an invalid."

Olivia nodded, adding, "I honestly don't think she'll see it that way. I think she'll be grateful for the help. So we're going?"

"Sounds like it," Alex replied. "What time do we need to get over there to beat the Crack Elf home?"

Checking her watch, Olivia replied, "We'd need to leave in about an hour, to have time to get it done."

"I guess Bailey and I should go finish in the foyer, then," the blonde said. She tapped her hand against her thigh and called for the kitten. "C'mon, buddy. I have some garland for you to play in."

The kitten bounced off, trailing Alex like a purring shadow, as Olivia chuckled, wondering how they'd gotten to this place. She grabbed the icicle lights and her coat, heading onto the porch to complete her half of the decorating. It took nearly forty-five minutes, but eventually the lights were hung, sparkling in the afternoon sun, and Olivia stepped into the foyer, shivering and stamping snow off her boots. "You about ready?" she called. Since Alex wasn't on the staircase, Olivia figured the blonde was in their bedroom, getting dressed.

"Yep," Alex hollered back. "You want me to put Bailey in his room?" The partners had set aside one of their guest bedrooms for him, kitten-proofing it and outfitting it with as many squeaky and rattling toys as they could handle.

"Please. I'm afraid if we don't, he'll try to eat the lights and we'll come home to fried kitten," Olivia laughed, leaning back against the front door. Bailey was adorable, she had to admit, but not the brightest feline God ever made.

"'Kay. Be there in a minute." Alex scooped the kitten up and placed him on the pile of pillows and blankets he'd arranged as his bed. She hummed to herself as she descended the staircase. "I'm ready," she said, entering the kitchen. She couldn't keep the humor out of her voice as she made her entrance. Any trace of her staunch, professional side was lost in her Santa hat and Christmas tree sweatshirt - lit up of course.

Olivia's mouth dropped open, and she was silent for a long time, before she burst out laughing. Her face turned as red as Alex's hat as she gasped for air between giggles. "Oh, my God," she managed. "You look...wow."

"I look festive," the lawyer grinned, also collapsing into giggles. "I love the sweatshirt, though," she said, tugging at her hem. "Anything that blinks and/or sings is good in my book. And it works on me."

"It certainly does," Olivia concurred, stepping across the floor to kiss Alex quickly. "And it'll go great with the reindeer antlers I got you for Christmas."

"Fantastic," Alex enthused, grabbing the car keys. "But then I have to give up my Santa hat. I don't know if I can do that, babe." She pulled her coat on and headed into the garage, climbing behind the wheel of their SUV. She pulled carefully out into the driveway, feeling the car's four wheel drive kick in under the crunch of ice and snow. The pair headed into the city, and Alex breathed in the wintry visage. "I fall in love with Christmas in the city more each year."

"You just love the decorations in the Tiffany's window," Olivia accused teasingly.

Alex smacked at her arm. "I missed it fiercely last year. Being on PEI was nice, but I missed the hustle and bustle - the holidays feel so alive when you can share it with millions of friends."

"And the occasional psychopath."

The blonde chuckled, merging the car carefully on the slushy roads. "That's the Christmas spirit, sweetheart."

"I try." Olivia reached for the radio panel and flipped on the station that was playing Christmas music twenty-four seven. "Ugh," she complained, "who can listen to the Carpenters' version of 'I'll Be Home for Christmas' more than once? They play it every half-hour, I swear."

Alex chuckled, taking off her hat as she checked her blind spot again. "I think Emma outfitted the car with other Christmas CDs if you want," she offered. "She made a copy of a few things for you. I forgot to tell you earlier."

"Oh, sweet." Lifting up the armrest, the detective dug through the CD collection, grinning like a kid when she found Martina McBride's Christmas album. "I love your sister." She popped the disc in and sighed happily when it began to play.

"I know you do," Alex replied with a smile. "Oh, I picked up their presents from Pottery Barn today. I had the store gift wrap them - no use me trying."

"I liked your attempt last year. It's so much easier to get to the gifts when the wrapping falls right off." Olivia reached out and rubbed Alex's neck gently as she teased her partner. "What'd we get them, again?" For all her organizational skills, Olivia was outpaced by Alex when it came to Christmas shopping. Olivia swore the blonde started the day after Christmas, buying gifts for the next year - a lesson probably learned from Emma. By the time the detective thought to mention gifts, Alex had whipped out a list a mile long and started rattling off those she'd already purchased and those which were yet to be bought.

"We got Amy a silver bar tool set and a really neat wine rack. Emma got some new sheets, a matching duvet and a few little candle things that were on sale. I also picked up a small knickknack for you to give to Kathy at your holiday party this year," Alex replied. She pulled into Amy's apartment building garage, showing her visitor pass to the security officer. After parking, she pulled her hat back on and lifted the hatch to the trunk, pulling out her shopping bags.

"You're the best," Olivia grinned. "Did we get anything for the boys yet, or is Homo Depot my job?" She grinned at the nickname they'd picked up for the Home Depot, which was apparently a hot spot for lesbians.

"Emma and Amy went in with us on a commemorative Mets shadowbox and trophy for Cragen to go with the autographed ball we got for him a few years ago," Alex replied, locking the car. "And I think Em found a 'Who Killed JFK' video set for John. No idea for Fin or Elliot, though, so you can be in charge of those if you want."

"Oh, sure, stick me with the tough ones," Olivia griped good-naturedly, as they hauled bags toward the elevator.

Alex chuckled, pressing the button for Amy's floor. "I can only do so much, sweetheart."

"Yeah, you'd have to be Annie Sullivan to shop for those two." Olivia pressed the doorbell with her elbow.

Amy sprinted for the door, pushing tangled red hair out of her eyes. "Hey, guys," she greeted breathlessly, opening the door wide. "Come on in."

"Hey," Alex greeted, resting her bag at the door. "Wow," she admired, looking at the work Amy had already accomplished. Soft white lights already adorned every inch of the kitchen and living room, and the balcony was outfitted with colored lights. Emma's Dickens Village was set up around the base of the tree, which was half-strung with white lights, and blue and silver ribbon. Alex breathed in the smell of the wreaths and Christmas tree deeply. "It smells great in here. You've done a great job already, Aim."

"Thanks," Amy replied, blushing slightly at the compliment. "Okay," she cleared her throat, "I need one of you to finish the tree - the rest of the lights, garland and icicles. We're saving the ornaments and star for Emma. Whoever doesn't want that job can help me set up the fake tree on the balcony."

"Olivia's all about the lights," Alex volunteered. "I'll help you outside." She kept her coat and shoes on and pushed the box containing a much nicer version of her fake tree toward the balcony door. "Wow, these even have the lights already installed. I feel very ghetto with my little tree at home."

"Ghetto fabulous," Olivia corrected as she set to work on the nine-foot Douglas spruce in the living room.

Alex chuckled, lifting the tree out of its box. She and Amy worked silently as they fluffed the branches and secured the base to make sure the tree wouldn't fall over in the harsh winter predicted for the New York area. "How's she doing today?" Alex finally asked as they finished. "Did therapy go okay?"

"She's okay," Amy replied, her head stuck between two branches. "She's at therapy now, as a matter of fact. It's going pretty well." The redhead backed out of the tree and grabbed a strand of colored lights. "Progress isn't as quick as she'd like, but you know how impatient she is. The doctors say she's right on track."

"She told me she was having a lot of pain and was going for some tests the other day," Alex said, connecting the light plug to the extension cord. "Did anything come of that?"

"Just a little extra fluid around the impact sites," Amy explained. "The nurse drained it and she was up and around within an hour."

"Oh, good," Alex replied, relieved. "It's nice to know you're doing my worrying for me most of the time," she teased the redhead. "How are you holding up?"

"Me?" Amy glanced up with a confused expression in her green eyes. "I'm good."

"Taking care of someone as they try to recover can be very emotionally draining. You and Emma were wrapped up in each other long before she got hurt - I'm sure that interaction has tripled since. I just want to make sure that you have an outlet and aren't being neglected as you take care of her."

Amy chuckled, shaking her head slowly. "It's been a while since I've been psychoanalyzed. Usually I'm the one analyzing." She paused, wrapping her fingers in the strands of lights. "I'm really good," the redhead finally continued. "A little worn out, but that's partly the holidays, I think. I can't wait for vacation, although Emma **still** hasn't made up her mind what she wants to do. I think she's afraid if we leave the city, Peter'll follow us again."

Alex smiled widely. "I've been with Olivia too long," she offered as explanation for acting like a psych major. "I can understand her reluctance, though. I have a bit of that myself."

"I just need a week away," Amy said quietly. "Away from work, the city, the threat of Peter. I don't know how you guys have managed to avoid going insane so far."

"Where would you like to go?" Alex asked. "If Emma won't make a decision, you have the right to make it for her."

"No, I don't. Em's got more of an emotional stake in this than I do," Amy countered, wrapping beaded garland around the tree carefully. "She'll pick eventually, or we'll just hang out here."

"Jesus, between you and Olivia, Emma gets the award for most spoiled," Alex teased lightly, stepping back and admiring the little tree. "Looks pretty good."

"Looks great. You want some coffee?" Amy offered, heading back into the apartment.

"A small cup would be great," Alex agreed, hanging up her coat. She rested her hand on Olivia's back and rubbed gently. "Lights are no match for the great Detective Benson I see."

Olivia straightened, beaming with pride. "Of course not. You had doubts?"

"Never," the blonde replied. "You want coffee?"

"Please." The detective stood and stretched. "What time's Em supposed to be home?"

"Little after six," Amy replied, pouring coffee into three mugs. "She's at Gables but said she'd be home before dinner. You guys're staying, right?"

"I'd love to," Alex said, looking to Olivia's confirming nod. "That gives us about forty minutes, Amy. What else can we do to help?"

"I guess we could do the bedrooms in white lights," Amy suggested.

"Why don't we start on the guest room?" Alex proposed, referring to the small extra bedroom that doubled as a library for Amy and an office for Emma. "We could set up more of her Dickens and her ornament tree."

"Okay. Olivia, you want to start hanging lights in our bedroom?"

"Sounds good." Olivia mock-saluted and grabbed some white lights off the pile in the middle of the living room floor. "Do I have B.O.?" she asked randomly, as she headed down the hall. "No one wants to work with me."

Alex's laughter trailed after her. "You put us to shame," she corrected the brunette, hauling some decorations into the second bedroom. "Our egos can't stand the beatdown yours gives them."

"That's gotta be it."

Amy giggled too, as she and Alex set to work on the office-guest room.

As the sounds of the Canadian Brass floated through the apartment, the three women worked diligently to bring a sense of a winter wonderland to the space. As she sprinkled the last of the fake plastic snow over Emma's favorite Department 56 pieces, Alex stepped back and admired their work again. "We're really good," she commented to the redhead.

"Yeah, we are. Em's gonna love it." Her office was decked out with lights, collectibles and white batting mimicking the snow. Amy couldn't help grinning at it all.

"Have you gotten her present yet?" Alex asked, knowing Amy always outdid herself when it came to her sister.

"Yeah, I got it about six months ago." Amy blushed, embarrassed. "I'm not usually like that, but I saw it and I just knew she had to have it."

"Wow, really?" Alex put the light boxes into the bigger Christmas box. "What'd you get her?"

"It's...uhm...thing is, Alex, I trust you and all..." Amy faltered.

Alex laughed heartily. "Must be a really good gift if you won't even tell me."

"I just don't want her to find out, even by accident."

"Not to worry. I understand." Alex looked at the clock on the nightstand. "Do you want us to order something while you go get her?"

"No, thanks. I've got dinner ready, it just needs to be reheated." Amy lifted the Rubbermaid bin and carried it into the living room. "Liv, do you mind stacking all of these containers back in the storage room?"

"I'm not helping," Alex joked, picking up her own box. "It's all you, baby."

"Watch how butch I am." Olivia lifted six of the seven bins in one stack, balancing them precariously in the crook of one arm. She grabbed the last bin with her other hand and nodded to the porch door. "You're gonna have to get that," she informed Alex.

Alex slid the porch door open and let Olivia pass as Amy left through the front door. She watched as her girlfriend stacked the bins back into the storage space, whistling at the organization. "You think they have stock in Rubbermaid, or what?"

"Bet they don't spend three hours untangling their lights," Olivia replied pointedly.

"No, because they get us to do it for them." Alex reentered the apartment, grabbing her forgotten coffee. "And I thought Christmas was big at our house."

Olivia countered, "No, because they store things well, and they don't let messes linger from year to year."

"I'm sure they would come and clean up our storage if you asked them nicely enough."

"I don't need them to," Olivia griped, sticking her tongue out, ala Emma. "I need you to take five extra minutes when you're putting the lights away and just use the wrapping paper tubes the way I showed you."

Alex situated herself on the couch, watching the lights flicker on Amy and Emma's tree, one of her favorite holiday pastimes. "Why don't you do it and let me take down the rest of the decorations?"

"Because then you toss all the ornaments into a box instead of using the special box with the separators," Olivia said with a gentle smile. "I think this year, I'm just gonna do it myself and save the headache."

"Hey, less work for me," Alex replied with a grin. "I'll just hit the after Christmas sales while you take all the stuff down."

"Perfect. Then we'll have all our Christmas shopping done for next year, and the year after, and the year after that." Olivia laughed softly, patting the seat next to her. "Scoot over."

Alex did as she requested, resting her leg against Olivia's. "What did you do last year, when I was in hiding?"

"We didn't put up any decorations," Olivia replied softly, turning her gaze from the tree to Alex. "Emma wouldn't let me."

Alex clucked her tongue. "That's terrible."

"It was out of respect for you," the detective replied, her eyes still on her partner.

"Just because someone dies doesn't mean life can't go on," the blonde replied softly. "That must have been hard for you."

Shrugging, Olivia didn't reply for a moment. "I guess it was easier since I knew you weren't really dead. I just had to let Emma grieve."

Alex rested a hand on her partner's knee. "You sacrificed a lot for her during the year I was gone."

"Are you trying to get in my pants?" Olivia teased, trying to change the subject.

Alex laughed. "Aren't I always?"

"Usually." The brunette grinned. "Has Emma decided where we're going for New Year's?"

"Not as far as Amy or I know. I'm really hoping she chooses somewhere warm. I love winter, but only when I have an island escape."

"You just like the cabana boys."

"That, too." Alex took another sip of her coffee. "These blinking sweatshirts are pretty heavy," she commented, looking at her still lighted chest.

"So take it off. I'm sure Em's got a sweater you can borrow," Olivia offered.

The blonde shook her head. "Hell, no. She needs to see me decked out. I've been waiting all day for her reaction - she's the one who thinks I have no Christmas cheer or sense of humor."

"You don't," Olivia deadpanned. "This is just a sorry attempt at some holiday spirit."

"Aw, come on," Alex complained. "A year ago, I would have checked myself into a mental institution for even considering buying something like this. But I'm loosening up, trying new things. I should get some kind of credit for that."

"Okay, okay," the detective relented. "You get minor props for the hat and sweatshirt."

"Thank you," Alex smiled. "You haven't told me what you want for your birthday or Christmas," she reprimanded her girlfriend gently. "Any ideas yet?"

"You, with a big red bow."

"How is that different from any other day?"

"In that maybe it'll actually happen?" Olivia grinned.

"Not likely," the blonde replied, "if you keep dogging me like this. You've been hanging out too long with Emma."

"I know. She's good for my ego."

Alex nudged Olivia's shoulder. "And I'm not?"

Leaning over, Olivia whispered something in Alex's ear to make her blush. "Usually then," she conceded. "But you're more of a challenge."

"You think so?" Alex looked at the brunette seriously.

"Definitely. It's what I love about you." Olivia glanced toward the door before continuing. "Emma's so easy to please; I just have to show up. You...you require patience, timing and lots of attention."

"How is that a good thing?" Alex queried. "I've tried to loosen up lately, be more Emma-like. You just seem so much more relaxed around her."

"Maybe I'm more relaxed with your sister," Olivia admitted, curling her hand around Alex's, "but you're more...stimulating."

"And you're okay with that?" Alex's vulnerability was evident in the softness of her voice and her face.

"Absolutely," Olivia said firmly, smiling gently. "I'm with you, aren't I?"

"I just want to make sure sometimes, you know?" Alex turned her head as she heard a key in the lock.

"I know. I love you," Olivia whispered as the door opened, pecking Alex on the cheek.

"Love you, too," Alex whispered in reply. "Surprise," she called as her sister hobbled in.

Emma stopped in the doorway, stunned. "Christmas threw up on my house!"

"You're channeling your sister," Olivia accused, laughing.

"God, that's a scary thought," the younger blonde replied, resting her hip against the kitchen counter and adjusting her turtleneck sleeve under her crutch. "Guys, this looks incredible."

"You like it?" Amy asked, snuggling up next to Emma despite the sheen of sweat on the blonde.

"It's gorgeous. I can't believe you did this."

Amy grinned at her girlfriend. "Why not? We wanted to surprise you."

Emma blinked away the tiny tears that had formed in her eyes. "I'm surprised. Thanks, guys."

"You're very welcome." Amy kissed Emma's cheek. "You wanna go shower? Dinner'll be ready by the time you're done."

"Yeah, I'll do that. Excuse me."

Alex smiled at Amy as the three remaining women heard the water start. "Do you need any help with dinner?"

"No, I think I'm good." Amy stepped into the small kitchen and turned on the oven, loading it with baking dishes full of food. "You can set the table," she requested, inclining her head toward the proper cabinet.

Alex stepped over the ornament boxes Olivia had started setting out and did as the redhead requested. Emma reappeared a few minutes later, clad in a fresh set of black stretch pants and a black v-neck t-shirt, wet hair pulled into a tight bun. "What're we having, Aim?"

"Roasted chicken, homemade mashed potatoes and green bean casserole," Amy replied, pulling out two bottles of wine, one white and one red. "And of course, because I know you, crescent rolls."

Emma's stomach growled loudly. "That sounds great," she said, sitting gingerly in the dining chair.

"How was therapy?" Alex asked, handing Emma a fork.

"Okay," Emma replied, gratefully taking a bottle of water from Olivia. "The swelling around my knee's gone down considerably, which made the nurses very happy. The muscle strength is up, too. Still hurts like a bitch, though."

"But you just grin and bear it, don't you?" Amy smiled across the room. "Because if you complain too much, I won't give you your Christmas present."

"Exactly," Emma agreed readily. "Because that's what Christmas is all about - presents!"

"Right. It's not about love, goodwill, Christianity," Amy teased. "It's all about Emma's presents."

"Finally, someone who understands," Emma teased back with a wide grin. She looked at Olivia. "Don't tell me you decorated my house before you got your own finished."

"Nope, we finished ours this morning."

"You finally found a Christmas tree this one liked?" Emma asked her sister, motioning to Olivia.

"Only took us four hours and three Christmas tree lots," Alex confirmed. "But we got a good one."

"Hey, it's an important purchase. It sets the tone for the entire Christmas season," Olivia informed them. "I'd think you, of all people, would understand that. You are, after all, the Crack Elf."

Emma laughed heartily, resting her leg on her 'special stool'. "I know, honey. It's just a rare occasion I get to tease you."

Olivia shook her head. "You always tease me, it's your job."

"That's true," Emma agreed. "I'm very good at it, too."

"Yes, you are. So, on to a new topic - vacation. We're still waiting on your vote, Em," Olivia said pointedly.

"Caribbean," Emma said, digging in to the plate Amy placed before her. "St. Bart's, maybe. Something small and beachy."

"Sounds like a plan. Can you start looking up vacations tomorrow?" Olivia asked Alex.

"Sure," the elder blonde replied. "Good decision, Emmalou."

Emma grinned. "Thanks. I figured we'd all be sick of the cold by New Year's, and you need a good romp in the hay with a cabana boy."

Alex batted her eyes. "Who will keep Olivia warm while I'm with Pablo?"

Emma winked and leered at the brunette. "I can think of someone."

"Lucia the towel girl?" Olivia replied happily.

Emma shook her head sadly. "Lucia already promised herself to Amy. Sorry, buddy."

"So I'm on my own, yet again."

Alex cleared her throat. "I think Emma was volunteering her services while I'm occupied, Liv."

"I was very un-deftly trying to ignore that," Olivia muttered, concentrating on her chicken.

Both Cabots giggled. "I think you were seriously rejected there, Em," Alex teased.

In response, Emma sighed dramatically. "What meaning is there to life now?"

"There's always chocolate," Amy replied, trying not to be jealous.

"And Amy snuggles," Emma replied, smiling gently at her girlfriend. "So how's my nephew? Does he like that squeaky toy I gave him?"

"He loves it - especially at three am," Olivia groaned.

Emma chuckled, but grimaced as her sister and Olivia glared at her. "I'll keep that in mind," she said, making a mental note to return Bailey's Christmas presents to PetSmart - the kitten was the only one she'd bought gifts for so far. "Had a message from Detective Lowry today," she said, taking another bite of her dinner. "I'm really starting to hate that guy."

"He's still hassling you about Caroline?" Olivia surmised. "And here I thought his partner was the prick."

"He's trying to get to Allie," Emma replied quietly. "And he's a nice prick, nicer than his partner. It's just really annoying, having a message a week from the guy. At least he stopped asking me out, though. That was a bonus."

"He's trying to do what?" Olivia's radar pinged and she narrowed her eyes.

"I'm still their main suspect," Alex replied. "They know they can't get to me because I'm still technically protected by WPP and the Justice Department."

"And they know Allie and I are majorly close," Emma continued. "They have to use me until they can get to her."

"They're not going to get to her, or you. Period."

Emma smiled. "I know that. It just sucks that I have to waste my minutes talking to that joker."

"Just screen your calls for a while," the detective suggested, making a mental note to talk to Elliot on Monday.

"Any word on Peter?" Emma asked, knowing that Olivia and Alexandra hadn't stopped looking for him.

Alex shook her head. "He hasn't been checking in with the parole board, which isn't a surprise. The details on his reported last known address have come up empty. And he hasn't been to Victoria's either."

"What about the Connecticut addresses? International departures?"

"Billy Burrows is terrified of Olivia," Alex said with a smile. "He reports there's been no activity at the old house. And Victoria turned in his passport when he left Attica. Assets are frozen too."

"So he's disappeared again. It's just happiness all over." Emma shook her head. "Merry Christmas indeed."

"Maybe he went up into the mountains and froze to death?" Amy hoped aloud.

"Ooh. Or was fishing and a giant barracuda jumped up and bit his nuts off and then he bled to death," Emma suggested, garnering a very strange look from her sister.

Olivia laughed loudly. "Or was hunting in the desert at night, and a very large, very angry desert cat tore him into so many pieces that the local P.D. is still trying to figure out who he is and **that's** why we haven't been notified yet."

"Or maybe the very large, very angry desert cat hasn't passed our evidence yet," Alex offered.

Emma laid her fork on her plate. "I'm not sure I'm hungry anymore."

"Really? I'm ready for dessert," Amy grinned.

Emma chuckled, wiggling her toes against the redhead's thigh. "Did you make something special?"

"Just your favorite."

Emma's eyes lit up. "Tiramisu?"

"Your other favorite that goes better with roasted chicken," Amy smiled.

"Apple pie? With ice cream?"

"Ding ding, we have a winner." Amy stood and began gathering their plates. "You want vanilla or strawberry on yours?"

"Vanilla on top, strawberry on the side," Emma said with a thank you smile.

Alex piled her plate on top of Olivia's and followed Amy into the kitchen. "That was really good. Thanks."

"Anytime. Get the ice cream, please?" Amy asked as she loaded the dishwasher. "The pie's in the oven."

Alex dug into their overstocked freezer and found the ice cream containers, placing them on the counter. "Liv, you want ice cream?"

"No, thanks. I'm starting to get a little pudge," the detective said with a grin, patting her nonexistent stomach. "Gotta start watching it."

Emma rolled her eyes. "My pudge could beat your pudge down in a back alley."

Olivia chuckled. "Maybe so, but my pudge has to be in tip-top fighting condition to protect vulnerable pudges like yours and Allie's."

Alex put Emma's pie in front of her and sat down with her own slice, eyeing her partner. "Are you insinuating I have pudge?"

"Of course not, baby. I'm flat out saying you've acquired a bit of the pudge." Olivia grinned her best grin, hoping Alex would take the jest in the spirit with which she intended it. Truly, she hoped she wouldn't end up on the couch that night.

Alex shook her head. "I hope Bailey doesn't mind sharing his bed tonight." She grinned and took a bite of the pie. "God, Amy, you're incredible."

"That's funny, I said that to her this morning," Emma grinned, laughing outright as her sister shuddered dramatically.

"Oh, shut **up**," Amy hissed, blushing. "Thank you, Alex."

"Dude, if you're **still** embarrassed by me, there is no hope for you," Emma said with a shake of her blonde tresses.

"Honey, I've been embarrassed by you since the day you were born," Alex said, rubbing Amy's hand in solidarity.

Emma pouted and looked at Olivia. "You still love me, right?"

"I...uh..." Olivia glanced plaintively at Alex and Amy. "Do I still get Christmas presents if I side with her?"

"You have to make a decision," Alex said seriously. "Do you want to endure the wrath of RejectedEmma and side with us, or risk sleeping on the couch forever by siding with her?"

"Wow, tough call. Which Cabot is bitchier?" she wondered aloud. "It's like a Zen riddle, only with extremely horrible consequences either way." She turned to grin at Emma. "I'm with you. The couch is pretty comfortable."

"Yeah!" Emma threw up her hands in victory, and then threw them around Olivia's neck. "I win!"

Alex took another bite of dessert, her expression neutral. "Interesting choice, Benson. Interesting indeed."

Olivia grinned and slung an arm around Alex's neck as soon as Emma released hers. "You know you're my girl. I just have to back Emma up where I can. Her fragile ego depends on it."

Alex chuckled, smiling at Amy as the redhead refilled her coffee cup. Emma scrunched her face up playfully at Olivia's comment. "I'm not fragile. I'm tough like bull."

"And smart like streetcar," Alex replied.

"What the hell does that mean, anyway?" Emma asked, massaging her knee as she lowered it into a bent position to work a different set of muscles. "That you have to be stupid to be tough?"

"I wouldn't say it that literally," her sister corrected. "More like 'brawn doesn't necessarily equal a comparable amount of brains'."

"Too philosophical for my taste," Amy replied, giggling. "I always thought it just meant that a streetcar wouldn't do well on the SATs."

Emma chuckled. "Wasn't Rosebud a streetcar?"

Alex rolled her eyes. "Mother of God."

Emma looked at Olivia. "What?"

"Rosebud was a sled," Olivia corrected. "Have you even **seen** Citizen Kane, you infant?"

"Did the Muppets or SNL ever parody it?"

Amy doubled over with laughter. "You and your freaking Muppets."

"The three most influential people in the history of the world," Emma argued, "were Adolf Hitler because he sucked, George Washington because he gave us a college in Foggy Bottom, and Jim Henson. Back me up on this."

Alex shook her head. "Please tell me I'm not related to you."

"Thankfully," Olivia replied, "I'm not. I'm insane by association."

Alex chuckled. "I don't know; it seems like any connection to this one is tantamount to insanity."

Emma rolled her eyes. "You guys pick on me so damn much. What would you do without me?"

"Eat at McDonald's more," Olivia replied.

"Get more done on the weekends," Amy piped up.

"Know fewer references to boy bands," Alex added.

"Fine. Then I'll go to some Third World country where I'll be appreciated," Emma replied, standing and reaching for her crutches.

"Honey, do you even know what Third World countries are?" her sister asked, finishing her coffee.

"Ones without Tiffany's?" Emma played along.

"Without MTV," Amy informed her, refilling everyone's drinks and setting fresh cocoa in front of Emma's dessert plate.

"Ah. Thank you, sensei," Emma smiled, curling her arm around the redhead's waist and kissing her girlfriend's neck. "Do you need help in the kitchen?" she asked softly, knowing Amy tended to work like a dog while everyone else - most of all Emma - sat and chatted.

"Nope, I'm good. I'm just going to start the dishwasher - you guys relax." Amy leaned forward and kissed the back of Emma's neck.

"Love you," the blonde whispered as the redhead passed. Emma sat back down and took a sip of Amy's famous peppermint hot chocolate. "Olivia, have you asked Cragen for Christmas Eve off yet?"

"No, Elliot and I are putting our requests in tomorrow. Fin and Munch agreed to work Christmas Eve and Day for us again, if we'll take New Year's, so our little tropical vacation will have to be after the first of the year."

"Probably cheaper fares that way anyway," Alex commented, stirring milk into her coffee. "Do you remember Christmas...what was it, two years ago, when you got called out on the 23rd and I didn't see you until the 27th?"

"Oh my God, I nearly imploded," Emma recalled.

"With the fifteen year old?" Olivia recalled. "That year sucked."

Emma nodded. "You don't have much luck in working holidays," she commented. "You always get called in. But I guess that's par for the course."

Olivia laughed softly. "Yeah, that's what happens when you're the best."

"Or lowest on the totem pole, in my case," Amy agreed, sipping her hot chocolate. "I've had to work pretty much every holiday since I started at the clinic."

Emma shook her head. "This is why I could never be as nice as you two. I need my holidays and my weekends off. Call me selfish."

"That's pretty fair," Amy acknowledged. "I never really had a reason to need the holidays off," she added.

"I did," Olivia said, reaching for Alex's hand with a smile. "But with my job, you've gotta do what you've gotta do, so we just grin and bear it."

Alex smiled at her partner. "And you wouldn't be you if you weren't running out the door at all hours of the day and night, falling over my shoes as you try to sneak out quietly."

"Hey, I am **very** good at sneaking out quietly," Olivia objected. "You didn't hear me the other night when I went out to meet Molly, my secret Scandinavian love interest."

"I totally heard you. You used your cell phone to let her know you would be meeting at your secret Scandinavian love nest," Alex replied.

"Oops."

Alex chuckled, taking another sip of her coffee, winking playfully at the brunette. "I've picked up a thing or two living with you. You can't sneak anything past me."

"Oh, yeah? Then why haven't you found your Christmas presents yet?" Olivia's grin widened as she teased her partner.

"Because you haven't gotten them yet, I'd bet," the blonde replied. "Emma normally helps you pick something out, and then she teases me with it until Christmas. I haven't heard anything from either of you, so I'm sure this year's sweater is still at the Limited."

Casting a sidelong glance at Amy, the detective merely shook her head with a smug grin.

Emma offered her sister a sympathetic look. "I haven't been paying good attention," she apologized. "I have no idea what's going on."

"No statement has ever been truer," the elder blonde replied without missing a beat.

Emma rolled her eyes. "What **do** you want for Christmas, Allie?"

Alex shrugged. "Haven't the faintest idea. Maybe some more of those Aveda things you got me for my birthday."

Emma looked at Amy. "Make a mental note, please."

"Aveda, whatever that is. Check."

Emma chuckled. "Aveda, love of my life, is the stuff you deemed smelly and girly and wholly Emma. The little green bottles and candles on my side of the sink."

"Oh, **that** Aveda, the femmy stuff. Right," Amy nodded.

Emma smiled again, patting Amy's hand. "Next week, we learn all about Shiseido."

Alex arched her back and looked at the wall clock, surprised at how quickly the hours had passed. "We should probably get going before the roads freeze too badly."

Emma's eyes flew to her sister's face. "But I haven't thrown snowballs at you yet!"

"And if you do, you'll find that crutch up your butt, not under your arm," her sister warned her.

"You're such a spoilsport," Olivia complained. "She can't even run, she's a perfect target."

"You'd get bored throwing snow at her, and then you'd turn on me. Uh-uh," Alex shook her head. "Not a chance."

"Fine, then, I guess it's just the three of us," Olivia declared, standing and stretching. "Get your coats, girls."

"Yes!" Emma squealed, making great time to Amy's hall closet and pulling out her heavy winter coat, hat and gloves. It took a little effort to balance on her crutches and pull her winter accessories on, but she did it and was standing at the door, ready to go, before her sister could catch a breath. "Come on!" Emma grinned. "The snow's melting!"

Alex shook her head. "Honey, the sun's gone down and it's below freezing. The snow's not going anywhere."

"Alexandra Grace," Olivia intoned menacingly, "if you don't get up and get your coat on right this second, you will be walking back to Long Island. Am I making myself clear?"

"Not to mention the fact I won't ever let you live this down. I'll bother and bug you until the day I die," Emma added, letting Amy wrap a scarf around her neck.

"You'll do that anyway," Alex replied, but pulled on her coat obligingly. As Emma and Amy headed out, the attorney grabbed her girlfriend's arm. "You ambush me or put any snow down my back, you sleep on the couch for the next two years. You got it?"

"Threats will get you nowhere," Olivia chuckled. "On the other hand, promises might."

"I promise to make you sleep on the couch for the next two years," Alex replied with a syrupy sweet voice and matching grin.

"Let's **go**!" Emma called, holding her crutch in front of the elevator door.

"Wrong kind of promise," Olivia retorted as they headed for the elevator.

Amy laughed at the lot of them as she hurried to catch up, wriggling into her coat while the elevator descended, depositing them into the lobby.

Emma managed to open the apartment building front door and breathed in the wintry air. "God, it's beautiful. Reminds me of New Year's in Vermont."

Alex smiled as they trudged through the snow. There was a small courtyard behind the building, a new feature that was added when the management company changed and upgraded the building. She cringed slightly as Emma rested her crutches on a bench and scooped down to begin building her arsenal.

The younger blonde, knee tightly wrapped in a brace, laughed loudly as she started hurling snow at Olivia, who was just as ready as she was to play in the snow.

Diving headfirst into a pile of fluffy snow to avoid the missile, Olivia scooped up a gloveful of snow and tossed it back toward Emma, nailing the blonde in the center of her chest. "Direct hit!"

"Oh!" Emma yelped, bending again and packing two quick snowballs. She moved as quickly as she could and lobbed one directly at Olivia's head. "I sunk your battleship!" She reloaded as the brunette rose from the ground, ready for war.

Rising up, Olivia had a huge snowball in each fist, and she tossed one at Emma and the other at Amy. The redhead responded in kind, catching Olivia off-guard and nailing the detective in the backside.

"No fair!" Olivia yelped playfully. "You're hitting below the belt."

"Totally legal," Emma giggled, sidling up to the brunette, faking left and then tackling the detective, knocking her to the ground. The blonde rubbed a little snow in Olivia's hair before sitting back and helping her back up.

"You are **so** not playing fair," Olivia griped, pushing Emma gently back into the snow and leaning over her from the side. Dangling a fistful of snow, the brunette grinned wickedly. "Eat snow, Cabot."

"No!" Emma cried, turning her head and kicking her legs as wildly as she could.

"Olivia!" Alex's voice hovered directly above the brunette's head, and the word was barely out before the lawyer dumped a huge amount of snow on her partner's head in a sneak attack.

Olivia screamed in surprise, reaching out and capturing Alex's coat. Before the blonde could blink, she was face-down in the snow beside them.

Emma started laughing so hard she could barely breathe. Alex, on the other hand, sat up and wiped the snow partially off her face before tackling Olivia again, knocking her off Emma's body. "You're mine, Benson," she warned, before scooping up another handful of the snow and rubbing it in the detective's face.

"Always have been," Olivia sputtered through the snow. She rolled over, capturing Alex between her legs and inquiring, "Didn't I have you in the same position last night?"

Alex's laugh was crystal clear. "I plead the fifth."

"Less nookie, more bonzai!" Emma hollered, hurling a large, packed snowball at the two women.

"Damn you," Olivia grinned, hurling unpacked snow in Emma's general direction. "I'm trying to score here."

"Oh, so **ew**!" Amy added, forming her own snowballs.

"Yeah, there are public decency laws in this city," Emma added, throwing as much snow as her arms could handle. "And you don't get to score if I don't."

"Who said you don't?" Amy grinned, pelting Emma with snowballs.

Emma turned her attention to Amy. "You've been talking about rubbing my face in the snow all day. I figured you'd choose war over peace."

Amy just grinned as she leaned forward and deposited a hunk of snow down the front of Emma's shirt with a teasing smile. "War, peace, it's all good. I'm getting laid tonight and we both know it."

Emma's screech made her sister wince. "You are **so** dead!" she warned, scrambling after the retreating redhead, chucking as much snow as she could manage.

Alex placed a snowy kiss on Olivia's lips before smashing a handful of snow on the brunette's shirt. "Gotcha," she whispered huskily, her nose and cheeks reddened in an impishly sexy way.

Grabbing hold of Alex's arms, Olivia leaned down for another quick kiss - quick out of respect for the neighborhood children making snow angels nearby. "I told you, you already had me."

Alex smiled widely. "Just checking." She turned her head towards Amy and Emma, who were still duking it out a few feet away. When she turned her eyes back to her partner, her eyes were alight with a youth and vivaciousness not seen since her college days. "Ambush?" she mouthed, inclining her head toward the other women.

Olivia nodded, pressing a firm snowball into Alex's gloved hand. She scooped up two of her own and stalked through the snow.

Alex scrambled to her feet and approached Emma from the side. Her sister realized too late what was happening, and held up her hands to protect her face from the flying snow. Emma lunged forward, trying to knock either Olivia or Alex on their butts, and landed squarely on her bad knee. She howled out and rolled over, spitting snow out of her mouth.

Alex turned and knelt by her sister's side. "Jesus, Em."

Emma groaned. "Damn it, that hurts. I thought snow was supposed to be soft."

Amy had dashed to Emma side the moment the blonde began to fall, and as Alex spoke, she was pushing Emma's pant leg up and examining her swelling kneecap. "It doesn't look too bad. We'll keep an eye on it for the next couple of days, just to make sure." She looked up with a comforting expression and patted Emma's shin gently. "You know this means you'll have to spend the rest of the weekend in bed with me."

"Oh, darn," Emma managed with a small, painful smile, and sat up. "You understand this means I win."

Alex chuckled, leaning back and letting Amy take over. "In your dreams, Strawberry Shortcake."

"Hey, I thought **I** was Strawberry Shortcake," Amy protested, grinning at Emma. "You're Cheesecake Charlie."

Alex shook her head, helping Emma up and handing her the crutches. "I'm not getting involved in this anymore. C'mon, let's get you upstairs."

Emma shook her head. "I'm okay. Really. I can get there myself. You guys should head home, dry off."

Alex looked between Olivia and Amy. "You sure?"

Olivia's glance was worried, but Amy nodded in certainty. "We're good," she assured them. "We'll see you Friday at Gables for dinner."

"Love you," Emma smiled, blowing air kisses to Alex and Olivia. She hurried into the building, making sure the other women didn't see her tears.

Alex sighed and wiped her coat of the snow, removing her glove and wiping it from her hair as well. "I think I just got rejected."

"She's got Amy," Olivia said, though it was no consolation. "Let's get going."

Once they were safely in the elevator, Amy reached out to brush a tear off Emma's cheek. "How much does it hurt?" she asked softly. "Do we need to go to the ER, or you think the Percoset will do it?"

Emma shook her head and cleared her throat. "I think the Percoset should do it. The snow broke most of the fall." She offered a small smile. "Thanks for getting me out of there. I really didn't need them questioning me again."

"Hey, it's my job," Amy shrugged. "If you let me order sushi on your dime tonight, we'll call it even."

Emma smiled, letting Amy unlock the apartment door. She settled herself on the couch and motioned to her purse. "Grab my Visa and go to town. I want some chicken teriyaki and some cucumber rolls."

"Sweet," Amy enthused. "I'm gonna get you some ice first, or do you prefer heat?"

"Heat," Emma requested. "Maybe you can grab me my sweats, too? I'm melting all over the couch."

"Sure. Can you shimmy out of those clothes without hurting yourself more?" the redhead asked as she went toward the linen closet. She pulled out the large heating pad with Velcro straps and the extension cord.

Emma removed her shirt without a problem, and lifted her hips to get out of her wet jeans. She flexed her leg too far, however, and cried out again as her knee locked. "Fuck," she seethed, sitting back down on the couch cushion. She rubbed her forehead and sighed. "This is getting really old, Aim. I don't know how much longer I can deal with this."

"As long as you have to," Amy replied pragmatically. She crouched down and helped Emma tug the jeans over her hips and guided them off. "It's getting a little better every day. It won't be long now," she assured the blonde, wrapping Emma's knee with the heating pad and securing the Velcro straps. "Sit back and relax," Amy ordered. "I'll drum us up some sushi."

Emma smiled, massaging her knee as the redhead pulled out the menu to their favorite take-out place. She watched Amy intently, smiling as her lover repeated their order three times so the restaurant owner understood completely. A wave of safety and love coursed over her, and as she sat back on her couch, admiring the sights of the season, she found herself saying a silent prayer of thanks.

"Okay, we're all set," Amy confirmed, setting the cordless in its cradle. "How's the knee?"

Emma nodded slowly. "Numbing out. I'll definitely need the Percoset later, though." She moved her leg, allowing the redhead to sit if she so chose. "Thanks for taking care of me. Again."

"Hey, what else am I good for but finding heating pads and ordering sushi?"

Emma chuckled. "I can think of a few things." She laid her head back on the throw pillows and watched her lover. "Are you happy?"

"Right this second? I'm a little hungry," Amy teased.

Emma kicked at the redhead's legs with her 'good' foot. "You know what I mean. You've given up an awful lot by staying here. Is this still what you want?"

Amy chuckled softly. "Duh."

"I'm being serious," the blonde replied. "I feel like I keep taking from you, demanding a lot more than I'm returning. I want to make sure that you're still satisfied in this relationship."

Shrugging, Amy replied seriously, "I guess so. I mean, this isn't the ideal situation, but I love you. So I guess I'm just hanging on until it's closer to fifty-fifty again."

Emma nodded, her heart turning from light to very troubled. "What can I do in the interim?"

"Not a whole lot," Amy replied, frowning slightly. "Wouldn't you do the same for me?"

"Of course," Emma replied without missing a beat. She ran a hand through her damp hair and searched for the right words. "I guess I'm just worried that you're acting more as a mother or a caretaker to me than a lover. Maybe you'll start looking elsewhere for an equal partnership because I'm not...whatever."

"But this is just physical," Amy protested. "It's not like I'm playing therapist or anything. You know that's my big gripe." Being a counselor, the last thing the redhead wanted was to come home to a fumbling mess of issues and neuroses, and while Emma had her fair share - as do most human beings - she was, at the end of the day, trying her best to overcome her past and focus on the future.

Emma cupped her lover's cheek. "I love you," she echoed. "You'll never guess who I got an email from today," she said as Amy settled between her legs, and the blonde started rubbing the redhead's shoulders.

Amy sighed softly. "Uhm...your mom?" she kidded.

Emma giggled. "No. Although she did leave a message for me last week at Gables. Kirsten," she said. "My niece."

"Oh, wow," Amy replied, surprised. "How's she doing?"

"She's okay. Starting her last semester of high school - don't even get me started on how old that makes me feel. But she's thinking of coming to NYU in the fall, and wanted to talk a little bit about the city, life here, that kind of thing." Emma worked some of the knots out of the redhead's back. "It was always so hard for me to feel close to her - I was only 13 when she was born. Carrie was barely 20 and in Atlanta with my father. But since her mother died, I think she's trying to reach out to our side of the family."

"I think that's a great thing. How's her dad reacting to the idea of NYU?" Amy inquired.

"Her birth dad, Jack, is pretty psyched. Kevin - you remember her stepdad - isn't so excited. He likes having her at home, thinks she could go to Georgia Southern or something. But since Jack's family is paying for it, he doesn't get much say." Emma shrugged. "I loved going away for school, even if Boston College was a two hour drive away from Victoria. I think it could be good for her, especially given the upheaval of her life over the past few years. No eighteen year old should be in therapy for five years because their grandfather sexually molested them."

Amy replied with a slow nod. "From what you've told me, it sounds like she's dealing with it, though. Maybe coming here will help bring some closure to that chapter of her life. Or maybe not, considering what you went through," Amy added, playing devil's advocate to her own train of thought. "I guess she'd stay in the dorms?"

"Probably," Emma replied. "Maybe you could take her under your wing, have her as a bartender or a waitress for a little extra cash. She doesn't have to worry about money, but I get the feeling she wants to prove herself to everybody, let them know she's not some little southern belle like yours truly."

"Yeah, I'd be glad to. And for the record, honey, you're the furthest thing from a southern belle," Amy laughed aloud.

Emma laughed, brushing the redhead's hair away from her neck. "I know. I was just teasing," she said, kissing the newly bared skin. "Maybe we could invite her up after the holidays, show her a good time before she decides."

Amy grinned and nodded, tilting her head back to smile at Emma. "That'd be fun," she enthused. "Maybe she can get up here in time New Year's Eve! Not like we can get into Times Square, but we can stalk around the perimeter."

"I'll email her in the morning," Emma decided. "I should be careful, though. She sent me her senior picture, and the girl is absolutely breathtaking."

"You can't possibly think I'd hit on an eighteen year old," Amy chided, giggling, "much less your niece."

Emma shrugged playfully. "I don't know. You've done the teenybopper thing before. Remember Tiffani?"

"I was **tutoring** her."

"In what?" Emma kissed Amy's neck again. "Crazy places to have wild sex? Don't forget I caught the two of you in the storeroom of Viva."

"The art of love," Amy giggled. "Anyway, I'd never hit on your niece. That's just wrong."

"Have you ever noticed that I'm totally not like any of your exes?" Emma queried. "I mean, if you lined me up with them, someone would walk by and start singing, 'One of these things is not like the other; one of these things is not the same'."

Amy burst out laughing. "Might it possibly be Bert from 'Sesame Street'? And yes, I've noticed. You're...special."

Emma chuckled. "I don't know why I'm so second guess-y tonight," she apologized, unable to keep her hands still on the redhead's body.

"It's okay. We're all allowed a little second guessing once in a while," Amy assured her, snuggling back against Emma with a grin. "But what - " The doorbell interrupted the redhead's musings, and she leapt up to grab Emma's wallet and pay for their dinner.

"Sushi!" Emma clapped her hands, getting up off the couch with a groan and grabbing some plates and a bowl for their soy sauce. She shuffled carefully back to the couch and set up on their coffee table. As Amy brought the bags over and started pulling out their dinners, Emma unrolled some chopsticks and asked, "What were you going to say?"

"I was just gonna ask what made you start questioning now," Amy replied, filling their plates with sushi and chicken teriyaki. "Anything specific?"

Emma popped a piece of cucumber roll in her mouth. "Not sure exactly," she said after a moment. "I think I saw Alex and Olivia, how equal their standing with each other is. Not to mention the fact that once again, our evening was cut short by my injury. The combination wore on me, and I needed some reassurance."

Waiting until Emma was finished chewing, Amy leaned over and kissed her, hard and long. "Reassured?" she asked afterward.

Emma shook her head without missing a beat. "Not yet."

Amy tried again, grinning as she did.

Emma abandoned her chopsticks in favor of cradling Amy's face to hers for a third time. "Nope, not yet. I think you still have a long way to go."

"More after dinner?" Amy suggested, her stomach growling loudly.

Emma sighed. "Abandoned for sushi. Not doing a good job on reassuring me there, babe," she teased, laughing as Amy threw a napkin at her.

"You taste good, but not like a bagel roll," Amy laughed. "You know, you really oughta stop comparing us to your sisters. We're totally different."

Emma grinned, dunking the rice in the soy sauce. "How so?"

"Well, for one thing, we're cuter. Secondly, I think we have a completely different way of relating to each other. Alex and Liv are very serious; I guess you'd have to be in their line of work. You and I are more playful. I think we have a lot more fun."

Emma chuckled at the comparison, but nodded and continued Amy's train of thought. "I guess that's true. I think what I admire most is how secure they are in themselves and each other. I never really had that sense of self, you know? I will always be that insecure eight-year-old, no matter what I go through or what I do."

"Or maybe just until you let yourself realize you're no longer eight years old."

"I thought you weren't going to counsel me," Emma teased, nudging the redhead with her shoulder. "I don't feel eight years old much anymore. But I wouldn't be human if I didn't feel insecure every now and again. And I think I've done a pretty damn fine job of not letting that run my life."

"No, you're right," Amy allowed. "I'm just going off what you said, that you'll **always** be that little girl. I don't think you are, and I certainly don't think your sisters are as put together as you seem to think."

"I think I will always be that little girl, somewhere deep inside me. I just don't let stuff affect me the way it used to, like when I got letters before Mark's death and flipped the hell out, that sort of thing. As for Allie and Olivia, I think you're right - what goes on behind closed doors is something outsiders never understand. It's interesting to speculate, though."

"Okay, I gotcha," Amy nodded, flashing Emma a supportive smile.

"You wanna rethink that whole sticking around thing?" Emma joked, taking another bite of the sushi rolls. "You might be a lot more sane if you bed Tiffani again."

"Maybe so, but you're a better lay."

Emma laughed heartily. "Well, thank you. That means quite a bit to me."

"I'm glad." Amy popped another roll in her mouth and chewed quietly for a moment. "Hey, Em?"

"Hm?"

"How long have we been together?"

"Oh, Mother of God, math. Um," Emma did a quick mental calculation, "one year and one month. We got together at the beginning of November."

The redhead nodded agreement. "Sounds about right, 'cause we were together for your birthday. So, uhm, listen...Em..."

"Spit it out, Amy Elizabeth," Emma ordered, slightly worried.

"Remember how I asked you a while back if you'd think about marrying me?" Amy asked, her hands nervously toying with a bagel roll, her eyes boring into Emma's.

"Yeah." Emma's reply was confused and slightly hesitant, but her eyes never strayed from the redhead's.

"I think we oughta do it now."

"What?" Emma's face split into a huge grin. She started to laugh incredulously. "Oh, my God. You're serious! Amy!" She covered her mouth in disbelief. "Good Lord, I thought you'd never ask."

"I did ask!" Amy grinned broadly. "It was your job to remind me that I'd asked, and bug me until I did something about it." She wagged her finger at the blonde. "You're lucky this didn't go down like the Christmas card fiasco."

"For the millionth time, I'm sorry I forgot to remind you to buy the cards," Emma joked, wiping her eyes. "So you really wanna do this, huh?"

"Yeah, I really do. You?"

Emma nodded. "More than I've ever wanted anything," she confessed softly.

"Me, too," Amy grinned, kissing Emma quickly. "So I guess I should start maxing out the cards and you can start planning the shindig."

Emma shrugged. "I would be okay going to a lawyer's or Vermont and just signing the papers. I've had the big shindig already, and I don't need to do it again. But if it's something you desperately want, I'll go for it."

"Nah." The redhead deferred to Emma's wishes with a shrug. "How about we drop by the courthouse later this week? If we want a celebration later, we can always plan one."

Emma nodded. "I can't believe we're actually doing this."

"Why not? Seems like we've been together forever."

The blonde laughed, nodding. "It does, doesn't it?" She captured Amy's hand. "I love you, babe."

"I love you, too, sweets," Amy grinned. "We should pick a date that's easy for me to remember," she suggested.

Emma looked at the wall calendar that hung in the kitchen. "What about Christmas Eve? It's a little more than two weeks away, but you'd remember it, and the courthouse is open that day, just on a holiday schedule."

"Sweet. I can remember Christmas Eve," she laughed.

Emma laughed in tandem with her. "Maybe. The 24th will come around and you'll go, 'Damn it, I know there's something I'm supposed to do'."

Giggling, Amy swatted at Emma's arm. "Brat. See if I get you any Christmas - I mean, anniversary - gifts."

"Ooh, double presents. I like this Christmas anniversary thing." Emma took another bite of dinner and grinned again. "This is so surreal somehow."

"So's everything with you," Amy countered. "It's like living in a snowglobe. I'm always waiting for someone to give us a good, hard shake."

Emma giggled. "That would just add to the perma-headache you have being around me in the first place."

Amy held a hand to her temple. "It does, believe me."


	22. The Beginning

"And that, ladies and gentlemen of the jury, is why you need to find this defendant guilty. Thank you." The student turned to Alex, awaiting her grade.

Alex nodded, but rose from the defense table. "You know what I'm going to say, Samantha."

Samantha chuckled, leaning against the jury box. "I babbled."

Alex nodded. "Yes, you did." She motioned for her second year law student to return to the gallery with her classmates and turned to face the class. "As much as I've touted closing arguments as being summations of your case, they are also equally about grabbing and maintaining a jury's attention. Samantha did a very nice job of going over the evidence and the facts of the case, but I zoned out about halfway through." Alex smiled as the class chuckled. "You are, in part, trying to persuade these jurors, trying to make them understand just how vital a conviction - or an acquittal - is." She crossed her arms and faced the empty jury box. "Ladies and gentlemen of the jury," she practiced, "the defendant here today is accused of the most heinous of crimes - the kidnapping and sexual assault of a twelve-year-old girl. He took her from outside a safe haven, her school. He took this poor, terrified young girl, up to a remote mountainside. Imagine what that would feel like. Think back to when **you** were twelve." She paused for dramatic effect. "Then the defendant sexually assaulted the victim, taking something sacred from her - her trust in mankind." It was easy for the now-professor to slip back into her well-worn ADA shoes, and she was just as comfortable pretending as she had ever been in an actual courtroom.

Olivia hid her lithe frame behind one of Alex's taller students, a striking man in his mid-thirties who had made a great presentation minutes before. She watched the blonde strutting in front of the jury box as the class practiced their courtroom form. Her heart pounded as Alex worked the room, giving advice and showing the novices how it was done.

Alex leaned her hands on the jury box as if she were pleading with the invisible men and women who sat there. "Testimony, as well as DNA evidence, conclusively links this defendant," she pushed off and motioned to the defense table, "to these crimes. And he sits here today, denying what he's done. You cannot let this continue," she urged the jurors, turning back, hands on hips. "With a conviction today, you might just be able to restore the victim's faith and trust in mankind - and my own. Thank you."

She turned to her students, chuckling when they applauded the performance. "Now, that was a tad dramatic. But it shows you, I hope, how to infuse emotion with the facts of the case. That makes for a much more compelling one-two punch." Alex smiled and motioned to the doors. "I'll see you all next class."

The crowd of students shuffled past Olivia, murmuring to each other about study groups and keg parties planned for the weekend. When the sea of faces parted, the detective grinned at Alex. "Nice work, counselor. Almost as sexy as you in real court."

"Hey there," Alex greeted with a matching grin. She leaned against the prosecutor's table, crossing her legs at the ankle. "It almost feels the same, being in here," she said, looking at the courtroom. "Almost, but not really."

"All you're missing is a judge and a pedophile," Olivia chuckled, admiring Alex in her pinstripe suit.

Alex smiled, slipping her class notes into her attaché and slinging it over her shoulder. "I think I've dealt with my share of pedophiles. And judges, for that matter." She slipped her fingers in between Olivia's and headed for the door. "How's the Anderson case going? Did Casey get you the search warrants you needed?"

"Yeah, she pulled a few strings and made a great argument to Petrovsky. We went in this afternoon," Olivia told her as they walked out of the empty courtroom, heading toward her car. "Found books, videotapes, a veritable cache of kiddie porn. Nothing that specifically links the guy to Jeffrey Anderson, but we'll find it," she added with certainty.

"Good." Alex opened the back door of Olivia's car and put her bag in the backseat. She breathed in the late spring air before climbing into the passenger seat. "Are we heading straight to Emma's?" she asked, turning the air conditioning vents toward her.

Olivia rolled her eyes and shut her window, which she'd begun to open. "Yeah, they're expecting us by six for dinner. You're a wuss," she added with a chuckle. "It's not even hot out."

"That courtroom was stifling," Alex protested. "I just need to cool down, and then you can open your precious window." She rolled her eyes back at the brunette. "Any more news from Interpol?" It had been almost two years since the cabin incident. In the past six months, with the help of international agencies, the FBI had confirmed Peter was staying in the northeast portion of France. With the French authorities not adhering to the Hague Treaty, the chances of Kelleher being taken into custody and retried for his crimes against Emma were slim. After their initial anger, the sisters were able to move on with the amount of closure they had.

Alex was now teaching at the John Jay College of Criminal Justice. Emma and Amy had signed their domestic partnership papers, and were in a new house not far from Olivia and Alexandra's place. The elder blonde sat back against the sedan seat and closed her eyes momentarily, and then turned her head, awaiting Olivia's answer.

"Got our monthly update," Olivia confirmed. "As far as they can tell, Peter hasn't moved. The activity on his credit cards has been slow, but steady, which just confirms that he's still in Ile de Saint Remy."

"No new aliases reported?" Peter, of course, had been too smart to use his given name, but had created three new identities that they knew of.

"Nope, same three. Looks like we might be out of the woods." Olivia grinned, reaching for Alex's hand. "I'll be glad when Emma can relax a little."

"God, me too. But I'd say she's done a pretty good job of that so far, hasn't she?" Alex returned the smile, settling in for the ride from Manhattan to Long Island.

The most significant - and hard to believe - change of the past two years had been the adoption of a thirteen year old boy and his nine year old sister. Amy had come across the two children while working at one of the local clinics. Connor and Anna had been in the system for most of their lives after their father killed their mother. They had been shipped from foster home to foster home, and as they aged, it became harder to place them. After much debate, Amy and Emma had decided to petition to become their adoptive parents.

Alex still got a small smile on her face when she thought back to the night Emma informed her of their plans; the ever-rational Alexandra fought her sister tooth and nail. It wasn't because she didn't want Emma to have children, or to be happy; at the time, they were still living in Amy's tiny apartment with barely enough to survive themselves. It simply wasn't prudent to bring two children into that. But Emma, as always, had a plan. She sold Gables and Renew, and went to work at a busy decorating firm on Fifth Avenue, the same one she'd started with right out of graduate school. The cash from the sale allowed them a little bit of a comfort zone in which to raise Connor and Anna.

There were days Alex still wasn't sure it was the best move, but seeing how happy her sister was with the children, the elder Cabot simply kept her mouth shut. She had even maintained her composure when Emma announced that she was pregnant. Connor and Anna did the screaming for her.

Alex took a deep breath and shook her head. "It's been a hell of a year," she murmured.

"No kidding. In a month, you and I'll be aunts - again. Can you imagine? Lordy," Olivia chuckled. "Does it ever make you ... want one?" she asked.

"Maybe every now and then," the blonde replied thoughtfully. "But I like watching from afar. We get to be involved with Connor and Anna - and I'm sure we'll be even more involved with the new baby - but we get to let Emma and Amy screw them up." She chuckled, pulling her hair back into a spiky bun. "I think you should just be happy you finally got me to the altar," she teased Olivia.

Olivia laughed, squeezing Alex's fingers. "I won't be happy until you're the mother of my six kittens and puppies," she teased.

"Oh, God, no more," Alex begged. "I'm sick of fishing cats out of the toilet. You would think Bailey would have learned by now."

"He's not even three years old," Olivia tried to defend the cat, who she had to admit was a bit slow. "He'll learn."

Alex looked incredulously at her wife. "He's **three**. Isn't that equivalent to fifteen in people years?"

"Sure. He's a teenager," Olivia explained. "They forget everything they've learned and think they're invincible. Obviously, that's happened to Bailey."

The blonde laughed. "Well, it makes sense then." She stole a sip of Olivia's bottled water, returning it to the cup holder before continuing. "Were you thinking more about the kid situation?"

"A little," the detective admitted. "Just, kind of, casually tossing the idea around. I never saw myself as a parent, but with you, I think it might be nice."

Alex smiled gently. "I suppose my resistance comes from our jobs. Emma and Amy, for the most part, are able to manage their own schedules. Emma can work from home any day she wants. You and I can't do that. Is that fair to a child, especially an infant or toddler?"

"Probably not," Olivia acknowledged, "but now that you're a teacher, you have a lot more flexibility. And after all the overtime and unpaid work I've done, I doubt Cragen would have a problem with me cutting back on my caseload a little. I don't think this is about our jobs, is it, Alex?" Olivia glanced at her partner as they pulled into Emma's driveway.

"It's not **just** about our jobs, no," the blonde relented. "Maybe I'm still in my selfish phase, and I like having my space without Fisher Price toys or Matchbox cars strewn about. Maybe I like having you to myself. And I'm sure a lot of it comes from fear that I just wouldn't be any good at it. I don't do kids well, Olivia. You know that."

"I can understand the first part," the detective nodded, cutting the engine and turning to Alex. "But you're very good with kids, you're proving that with Connor and Anna," she insisted. "I think you'd do just fine, but tell you what? Let's table the discussion until later. We'll think about it on our own and hash it out again someday."

"In the interim, maybe we can convince Bailey to stay out of the toilet." Alex winked and leaned across the car for a gentle kiss.

"Can do." Olivia slipped out of the car and waited for Alex by the front door.

"Knock, knock," Alex called, opening the glass storm door of the house.

"Back here!" Emma called, beckoning the two visitors to the kitchen.

Alex slipped off her shoes and rolled up her dress shirtsleeves. "Hey," she greeted her sister, marveling at the size of her protruding stomach. "Jesus, are you sure there's only one baby in there?"

Emma swatted at her sister. "Be nice to me," she warned, "or no dinner for you."

"I'm scared," Alex teased, kissing the top of her sister's head. "Hey, Connor."

Connor looked up from his math homework. "Hey. Hey, Olivia!" he grinned at the brunette. "I got a A minus on that project you helped me with. I would have gotten an A, but Miss Stevens wasn't so sure about the crime scene photos."

"A little too gory for the eighth grade, huh?" Olivia lamented. "Congrats on the A, anyway," she grinned, leaning over the back of his chair to hug Connor. "You know what this means, right?"

"X-Box game," Connor said with a grin. "Hell, er, heck yeah," he corrected quickly.

Emma tapped his homework with her finger. "Not until you finish this, Einstein."

Connor sighed dramatically. "Slave driver," he teased Emma. He leaned back and looked Olivia in the eye. "Thanks for your help."

"Anytime. Unless it's the new math," Olivia chuckled. She squeezed Connor's shoulder and moved away, remembering how uncomfortable displays of affection made her as a teenager and trying to avoid embarrassing her nephew. "Hey," she greeted Emma properly. "How ya feeling?"

Emma sighed. "For as much trouble as I went through to get pregnant, I think I'm over it. I'm ready to get back to not being pregnant."

"We're ready for that, too," Connor teased, handing over his homework to be checked.

Amy stepped into the room, shaking her head. "I think we're all ready to meet little Michael," she said, slipping an arm around Emma's waist and patting her swollen belly.

"Or Lily," Anna piped up adamantly from a corner of the living room. She tugged her headphones off, repeating, "You guys keep acting like it's gonna be a boy, but I told you, I want a sister."

"I agree with Anna," Alex replied. "You're carrying a girl."

"What are you, Dr. Spock?" Emma shook her head and looked at Amy. "Why did I let you convince me not to find out again?"

"Because we love surprises, and this is the biggest one ever."

Alex smiled as Emma sighed dramatically. "How's the nursery coming?"

"It's finished," Connor piped in. "Amy and I did it yesterday."

"It looks phenomenal," Emma agreed. "And that green gingham baby set looks great in the crib."

"For three hundred dollars, that crib better look great with just about anything." Alex winked at Olivia. Truth be told, the two aunts had a blast buying the accoutrements for the baby. It was just shocking, though, how expensive preparing for a child so small could be.

"Thank you again for that," Amy grinned. "We really appreciate all the stuff. You gonna provide free baby-sitting, too?" she winked.

Alex laughed heartily. "We're generous, not stupid."

"Damn," Amy chuckled. "Dinner almost ready?" she asked Emma. "Can I do anything?"

Emma leaned back and checked the oven timer. "Almost," she said. "You can put the garlic bread in."

Connor packed up his book bag and left it by the door for easy pickup the next morning. "Ann, come help me set the table, please."

Anna jumped up, setting her Walkman delicately on the coffee table before bounding into the dining room. She piled her arms high with plates and silverware, and started setting the table.

Amy laid garlic bread on a baking sheet and slid it into the oven. They all chatted for the next few minutes, and when the oven timer dinged, Alex and Olivia helped carry dishes to the table.

Emma slid off the stool and joined the gathering in the dining room, her stomach rumbling as Amy started scooping lasagna onto the plates Connor and Anna had set. She cut a few slices of garlic bread and put them on the children's plates, passing the rest to Amy.

"Mm, this smells wonderful, Em," Alex said, taking a bite. "You haven't made Italian in a while."

"Yeah, my stomach really couldn't handle it," her sister replied, rubbing her stomach.

Alex smiled. "Did you still need me to drive you to the doctor's tomorrow?"

Emma shook her head. "No. I had to reschedule some meetings, so I'll be in the city. I'm just going to cab it."

"Wanna get together for lunch?" Olivia suggested, digging into her dinner. "Alex's classes don't start until two-thirty tomorrow."

"Sure," Emma replied, taking a long sip of water. "If you think you can get away."

"Shouldn't be a problem. Just call me after your appointment," Olivia said, "and we'll make sure nothing's come up." She glanced at Alex. "You don't have anything planned, right?"

Alex shook her head. "Nope. That sounds like a good idea to me. Where should we meet?"

"Why don't I give you both a call after I'm finished at the doctor's, and we'll go from there?" Emma suggested.

Her sister nodded. "Good plan."

"Nice of them to invite **us**," Connor mock-whispered to his sister.

"I don't wanna go," Anna protested between bites of lasagna. "We're having a pizza party tomorrow."

"Well, **I** have a science quiz tomorrow," Connor replied.

Emma grinned. "School's almost over," she reminded the boy. "You can come to lunch with us all summer."

"And watch you breastfeeding?" The boy wrinkled his nose. "No, thanks."

The table burst into laughter, and Emma shook her head. "You're crazy."

"Must be a result of living with you people too long," Connor teased back.

"Hey, Anna, did you still want to go to that creative arts camp this summer?" Emma asked, turning her attention to the little brunette.

Tilting her head, Anna's conflicted emotions were evident in her eyes. "Yeah, kinda, but I don't want to leave you. I mean, you're gonna need help with the baby. I just wouldn't feel right."

The blonde smiled gently. "I appreciate that very much," she said, cutting a small bite of lasagna. "But I'm going to have plenty of help from Amy and Connor, and Alex and Olivia, too. As much as I would love to have you here, I think it could be a really great opportunity for you. You don't have to go if you don't want to, but please don't stay just for me, okay?"

Nodding, Anna bit into her garlic bread with a shrug. "I'll think about it."

---------------------

Emma stepped carefully out of the shower the next morning, wrapping the extra large towel around her body. She smiled softly at her reflection, patting her stomach lovingly. As the baby kicked in response, she chuckled. "Soon, baby," she cooed. "Soon."

She wrapped her hair in a towel and pulled on her bathrobe. Amy was long gone, having to cover an extra early shift at the clinic. Emma padded down the hallway, knocking lightly on Connor's door. "You up?" she asked unnecessarily; the boy was a chronic early bird and had been awake for at least twenty minutes by the time anyone came to rouse him. "Yep," Connor replied, putting his magazine down and swinging his legs out of bed.

Emma moved across the hall to Anna's room and snuck in. She ran her hand through the girl's hair and whispered softly. The young brunette had a tendency to be like Emma in the morning; in short, she was a bear. "Anna," Emma said, raising her voice just slightly. "Time to get up, hon."

"Mm," Anna growled, rolling over and snuggling against Emma's side. "Fi' mor' min's," she mumbled.

"Sorry, toots," Emma said, kneeling as best she could beside Anna's bed. "I gave you ten. Come on," she urged, trying to tuck her hand under the girl's back and ease her up, tickling her along the way. "Up and at 'em."

Anna growled again, opening one eye. "You suck," she muttered succinctly.

"But I'm cute," Emma argued with a grin. "That's my girl. You want waffles for breakfast?"

"Pancakes?" Anna requested. "And sausage, mmm."

"Deal." Emma dropped a kiss on Anna's forehead. "I'll meet you downstairs in fifteen."

She returned to her bathroom and dressed quickly, opting for a loose black tank top and patterned skirt. Emma then brushed her hair and put it up, away from her neck. She made her way downstairs and opened some of the windows to let the spring air flow through the house. The blonde quickly made pancake batter and started some sausage grilling, turning on the Today show in the background.

Not ten minutes later, the chatter of the two kids filled the house as they tramped down the stairs and into the kitchen. They began their well-established routine, setting the table for breakfast and double-checking their backpacks for all the necessary items. The three sat down to breakfast - a part of the routine that Emma had insisted on from the beginning - and planned the day.

Emma flipped the pancakes and swiftly slid them onto two plates. "How many sausages?"

"Three," Connor requested, while Anna opted for two.

"Connor, is your lunch packed?"

"Mmhmm," his full mouth replied.

"Good," Emma replied. "I'll probably pick you guys up today after school, so don't get on the bus, okay?"

Connor nodded. "Ann, you want to meet in front of your classroom, or just outside school?" The two went to the same Montessori academy, but were in separate buildings on the campus.

"Outside school," Anna requested. "I'm helping Mr. Campbell work on next week's project board after school."

"Sweet," Connor replied, stuffing a large bite of pancake into his mouth, and eliciting a glare from Emma.

"Isn't there an upper school dance coming up soon?" Emma asked, taking a sip of orange juice.

Connor suddenly found his pool of syrup extremely interesting. "I dunno," he muttered.

Anna stuck her tongue out at her brother. "Yeah, you do," she replied. "I heard you telling Stephen you wanted to ask Alyssa McGivern."

"Alyssa, huh?" Emma shrugged. "I think you should ask Jessica. She likes you. Don't you think, Anna?"

"I dunno," Anna giggled. "Alyssa's pretty cool. Jackie told me she used to sing backup for Mandy Moore."

"Really?" Emma quirked her mouth. "At least it wasn't Britney. But I like Jessica. She's very unassuming, down to earth. Alyssa is high maintenance, which is really wrong at thirteen years old."

Connor pushed his chair quickly away from the breakfast bar. "This is so embarrassing," he muttered. "My sister and my mom picking out girlfriends for me. Dude, that's just **wrong**."

"Emma picked out Aunt Alex's girlfriend," Anna pointed out, "and that worked out pretty well. Maybe you should just go with it."

"Exactly," Emma replied. "Trust me on this, Connor. I won't lead you astray."

"You're more likely to lead me to the funny farm," he retorted, rinsing his plate and putting it in the dishwasher.

Emma finished her breakfast and followed suit. The threesome climbed in the car and turned up the radio as they made their way to school. She stopped the car in front of the school and turned to the kids in the backseat. "I'll meet you here at three-thirty. That good?"

Connor nodded and kissed Emma's cheek before he got out of the SUV. "Adios."

"Bye," Anna grinned, hugging Emma's neck tightly before hopping out of the Jeep. She turned after taking a few steps. "Oh, I just remembered! I need three dozen cookies for a class party tomorrow."

"Anna Isabella Cabot Hudson..." Emma shook her head with a sigh. "What kind?"

"Half chocolate chunk, half oatmeal raisin," Anna requested. "I can help you make them tonight."

"You're damn well going to help," Emma replied with a shake of her head. "Have a good day at school." She raised her hand in a wave and watched Anna head toward her classroom, then pulled her Jeep back toward the main road.

--------------

Her cell phone rang twice before Amy answered it. "Amy Hudson," she said cheerfully.

"Amy, it's Liv. How are you?"

"Fine, thanks," the redhead replied quickly. "In between sessions, but I only have a minute. What's up?"

Olivia sighed softly, glancing around the squad room. "Have you talked to Emma yet today?"

Amy thought for a moment. "Not since this morning when I left," she answered. "Why, what's wrong?"

"Nothing, I don't think," Olivia worried. "She was supposed to call us about lunch, but Alex and I haven't heard from her. I thought maybe she'd gotten tied up and forgot to call."

"Have you tried her cell?" Amy asked, her chest tightening. The only thing preventing her from falling into a full panic was the fact that Peter was thousands of miles away, in non-Hague France, and wouldn't risk coming back to face prosecution.

Sighing, Olivia replied, "Yeah, it just rings a few times, then goes to voicemail. Same with the home phone. Do you know if she had any errands besides the doctor today?"

"Not that I know of." Amy fought for breath. "Liv, what's going on?"

"I don't know," Olivia said, and proceeded to flat out lie. "I'm sure it's nothing. I'll call you as soon as I know something." She hung up and turned to Elliot. "Call Emma's OB/GYN, Dr. Shellington on West 47th. Munch, you check with the kids' Academy, I'm calling Alex back."

A few moments later, Elliot hung up his phone and scribbled a note to his partner, who had hers pressed to her ear. 'Never showed at Dr.' He sat back in his chair, running a hand through his hair.

Munch walked over and spoke low in Elliot's ear. "Teacher confirms she dropped the kids off and headed westbound, toward the highway."

Elliot nodded. "Call the locals, see if they can do a BOLO for the car."

Olivia hung up with Alex, assuring her that at the most, Emma was stranded on the side of the road with a dead cell phone, and they'd know soon enough. As soon as she put the phone down, Elliot filled her in, and her heart sank. "Peter's in France," she confirmed aloud. "So this is just coincidence, right?"

"Right," Elliot replied, trying to sound more convinced than he actually was. "I'll call Interpol just to be safe."

"I have a friend at the State Department. Maybe we can get Interpol to check Peter's last known address," Munch volunteered.

Fin snickered. "**You** have a friend at the State Department?"

Munch lowered his nose and looked at his partner. "I might be old, but I have some surprises still up my sleeve."

"Thanks, guys," Olivia said with a grateful half-smile. "Hate to put you through this. I mean, it's Emma. She probably just decided to do a last-minute massage at Elizabeth Arden or something, but I'll feel better when I know."

"'Course," Elliot replied. "I'm going to put out an administrative message over NYSIIS with the vehicle information, just in case."

"Thanks, El." Olivia grabbed the phone and continued her calls.

Three hours later, they were no closer to finding any information about Emma. Olivia had called Amy and instructed her to pick up the kids, and not to tell them anything yet. So the redhead had gone to the Academy, gotten her kids and taken them to McDonald's as a "treat".

"Amy, she said she was gonna pick us up," Anna protested. "She promised to make cookies for my class tomorrow, where **is** Emma?"

"She had some errands," Amy lied, her stomach in knots. She took a deep breath and shook her head. "Guys, I need to be honest with you," she said quietly, hoping she wasn't putting them through unnecessary trauma. "Emma's...she's kind of missing."

Connor looked curiously at Amy. "What do you mean, missing?"

"No one's seen her since she dropped you off at school. I'm sure she's fine, but we promised you guys when we adopted you that we wouldn't lie to you, so I'm not."

"Where would she be?" Connor shook her head. "I don't get it."

"I don't know, baby," Amy said softly. "Maybe her car broke down or something. But we should find out soon."

"Did you call the police? Does Olivia know?" Connor glanced at Anna, who was very quiet at the other end of the table.

"Yeah, everyone's on the lookout. The first one to see her will call us immediately." Amy reached out, covering Anna's hand with her own. "You okay?"

Anna slid her hand back, templing her fingers and laying both hands in her lap. She shook her head quickly. "Is she gonna die?"

"I hope not," Amy replied honestly. "And I really don't think anything bad has happened. There's no one who...I mean, everyone around here loves Emma, right? I can't think of anyone who'd want to hurt her."

---------------------

"Stabler."

"Yeah, this is Officer Lee out of Long Island. I'm calling in reference to the admin message you put out, reference NY plates Bravo Echo Charlie, 4515?"

"Yeah." Elliot sat up, grabbing his pen. "Do you have a locate?"

"That's affirmative," Lee stated.

"Address?" Elliot requested.

"3990 Westerford Highway. It's a shopping center. Somebody noticed the car keys were in the ignition, and a purse in the passenger seat, but no occupant."

"Do you have an ID?"

"Says here Emma Cabot Hudson, address a few miles from here. She your POI?"

"Don't touch a damn thing until I get there, Lee." Elliot stood up, trying to pull his coat on and run out the door at the same time.

"Roger that. You want me to tape it off?"

"Yeah. Thanks." Elliot disconnected, bounding upstairs to their makeshift incident room. "Olivia."

Olivia's head snapped up. "Yeah?"

"We got the car," Elliot said breathlessly.

"No shit? Where?" Olivia leapt up and grabbed her jacket off the back of the chair.

"Couple of miles from the house, sounds like a grocery store or something. Locals are there, securing the scene." He was halfway out the door as he finished speaking.

Olivia was right behind him. "Elliot, what the hell's going on?" she asked rhetorically. "This feels like Peter again, but that's impossible. The only reason Emma's even begun to calm down is that he's in a non-extradition country..." The detective trailed off.

Alex knocked on the door, and pushed her key into the lock. "Amy?" she called. "Connor? Anna?"

Amy was the first one to the door, her eyes revealing her disappointment as she saw Alex. "Hey, Alex. Come on in. Any word?"

The elder Cabot shook her head sadly, shutting the door behind her. "Not really. But Olivia's not answering her phone, meaning she could be following up on something." She looked behind the redhead into the kitchen. "How are the kids? How are you holding up?"

"We're all okay," Amy said with a soft sigh. "Anna shut down, but Connor's been working on her. He's incredible." She paused, swallowing hard. "Alex, what's going on? The last time this happened..." She trailed off.

"I know." Alex released a large sigh and rubbed at her eyes, which were red and itchy from an earlier quick cry. "I did get to talk to John Munch, and he told me the French officials are going to check out Peter's residence. We still have every reason to believe he's there. There's got to be a perfect explanation to all this."

Glancing over her shoulder, Amy asked Alex, "What if the explanation is that Peter's back?"

"Peter?" Anna asked, from across the room, her eyes wide. "Emma's stepfather?"

Amy turned and blinked in surprise. "How do you know about Peter?"

Anna crossed her arms over her chest. "Emma told me," she defended. "What's Peter got to do with this?"

"We don't know," Alex replied. "Maybe nothing. But maybe everything, too. Olivia's working on it, and she'll call as soon as she knows anything."

"Where is she?" Anna demanded, her countenance deceptively calm. "Did she leave us?"

"Oh, God, no." Alex sat on the ottoman in front of the young girl. "She loves you more than anything. She would never, ever leave you. I think something's happened. I just don't know what yet. But we're working on it."

"So she's in danger?" Neither option appealed to the girl, but she seemed almost relieved that they hadn't been abandoned. "I wanna help."

"The best thing you can do is stay here with us," Alex told her. "I know that sucks and seems inconsequential, but it's very important."

Amy strode across the room and sank onto the arm of the chair Anna occupied. She wrapped her arm around her daughter's shoulders and added, "I know what else we can do. We can make your cookies for tomorrow so Emma won't have to worry about it when she gets back. Okay?"

"Yeah," Anna nodded tightly. She stood and went to the kitchen wordlessly, gathering ingredients for her cookies mechanically.

Alex's whole body drooped as Anna left the room. "Jesus," she breathed with a shake of her head. "I'm going to go try Olivia again, see if I can get an update."

Amy nodded and followed Anna into the kitchen.

"Liv?" Alex stood in the foyer, speaking softly into the phone.

"Hey, baby," Olivia said over the din of the CSU crew. "How's everyone holding up?"

"We could really use some good news right about now," Alex replied. "Anything from your end?"

Olivia almost crumbled. "Not good," she said with a sigh. "Techs found blood in Emma's car - not a lot," she hurried to assure Alex, "just a little, like from a bloody nose, so they think both she and the baby are okay. Munch also got a call back from Interpol. They sent locals out to Peter's residence in France, and it's abandoned. We double-checked his credit cards and it seems as if all the transactions were monthly scheduled deliveries or services. He didn't have to be there for any of 'em."

"Oh, shit." Alex leaned her head against the front door and struggled to stay on her feet. "Are there any surveillance cameras in the area? Anything that could have captured something?"

"Not a one," Olivia said with regret. "But we're tracing her cell calls. She's been dialing our house on repeat, and we're able to follow her. The closest we've gotten is that she's on her way towards Manhattan. If it's Peter, he's a ballsy fucker."

"If it's Peter, she'd be dead by now," Alex theorized softly, cognizant of Anna and Amy in the other room. "He wouldn't take her just to play with her. He did that in the cabin. He wants to finish this."

"Unless he couldn't get it up until he got back to his old stomping grounds," Olivia hypothesized, seeming to forget for a moment who she was talking to. "Then he might've been biding his time. At any rate, we know where they're headed and we're following. We're gonna get her back."

"Just please let us know if you hear anything, okay? I'm at Amy's, but I have my cell on." The blonde took a deep breath.

"Of course," Olivia assured Alex. "I love you. It'll be okay."

"Love you, too. Bye."

Olivia hung up and turned to Fin. "Are we any closer to an exact location?"

"It's tough 'cause she's on the move," the other detective replied, his own cell phone pressed to his ear as he listened to the man tracing Emma's calls. "But we're getting there. They're not actually headin' to Manhattan like we first thought. They're turnin' off toward Rochester."

Elliot looked at Olivia. "You think he'd go to Victoria's?" He remembered her moving years before, but wasn't sure if Peter would know the new address.

"I don't know," Olivia said, dialing her cell phone. Before she pressed send, the phone rang in her hand. "Benson."

"Detective Benson?" Her voice was uncharacteristically soft and nervous.

"Yes. Who is this?" Olivia cocked an eyebrow at Elliot.

"This is Victoria Kelleher. Alexandra and Emma's mother."

"Victoria," she repeated aloud for Elliot and Fin's benefit. "I was just about to call you. What's going on?"

"I just got a call from Peter," Victoria replied, sitting on her couch, shaking. "I thought he was dead. We'd all be so lucky, I suppose."

"Holy...what'd he want?"

"He's coming here. He says he's no more than twenty minutes away. Olivia, he says Emma wants to talk to us. What's going on?"

"He's got Emma? He told you that?" Olivia's heart pounded ferociously.

"He said they were together, and that the three of us were going to sit down and hash things out. Now you and I both know Emma would not willingly go with him. Did he do something to her? Should I be scared?"

"Victoria, listen to me," Olivia said, as calmly as she could, "Peter took Emma from a parking lot in Long Island. We all thought he was in France, you know that. It turns out he faked us out, and God knows how long he's been in New York." Olivia gestured frantically for Elliot to hand her his cell phone. She dialed Alex's cell, pressed send and handed the phone back to him. "My partner's calling Alex right now, we're gonna get up there as fast as possible," she told Victoria. "Can you just keep Peter occupied and try to keep Emma safe until the local police arrive?"

"Of course," Victoria replied. "I'll do everything I can. But hurry, Olivia," she pressed. "He knows me better than anyone else. He'll know I've called you."

"We'll get there as soon as we can," Olivia assured her. She hung up and called the Rochester police, informing them of the situation. They promised to dispatch a cadre of uniforms immediately.

Victoria added a small spoonful of honey to the tea she'd made, and sat at her breakfast table. She looked toward the foyer and the front door, trying to prepare herself for the knock she knew was coming. She wondered what it would be like to see Peter again; would she still view him as her soulmate, the man she'd shared twenty-five years of marriage with? Or would she remain steadfast and see him as the rest of the world did - a lying, pathological maniac?

Truth be told, her understanding of her daughter's plight had never been tested. Victoria had been faithful to Peter during his incarceration; it had been her phone calls that granted him release from jail. It wasn't until he did not return from his morning errands and skipped bail that Victoria realized that in fact, the man she touted so highly might actually be what Emma and Alexandra swore he was. But she wasn't sure just how much she believed them, even after all this time. She felt torn, tormented. Was it a betrayal to her daughter that part of her was happy Peter was returning home? Was she strong enough to stand up to Peter, or would she once again turn a blind eye?

Her gaze remained focused on the front door until the knocking matched the racing of her heart. She rose gracefully from the table and smoothed her blue dress shirt, making sure it was tucked into her black dress pants neatly. She fingered the pearl choker Peter had bought for her to celebrate their fifteenth anniversary and made her way to the door.

Peter's grin was almost sincere as he saw Victoria appear in the doorway, his arm wrapped firmly around Emma's waist. "Darling," he enthused, "I've missed you. How've you been?"

Victoria matched his smile and kissed his cheek. She glanced toward Emma, who seemed fine, despite looking like she was ready to go into labor at any time. "I'm fine, darling. How are you? You look well."

"I've been better," Peter replied with a sigh and a shake of his head. "This one," he jerked a thumb toward Emma, "is determined to give me a heart attack. Do you believe she tried to jump out of a moving vehicle?"

"Good Lord, Emma Katherine," Victoria admonished, ushering the two inside and quickly shutting the front door. "Come sit down before you burst. You look terrible. Have you been taking care of yourself?"

Emma cleared her throat, trying to shake off the haze that remained after Peter struck her in the back of the head. She said nothing, trying to figure out a plan to get the hell out of the house. She knew Victoria would choose Peter over her in a heartbeat, and would let him walk out the back door without a second thought. The blonde licked her lips and eased herself onto the chaise in the living room, trying to search for an escape route in the unfamiliar house.

"Answer your mother," Peter demanded in a low voice. "Such disrespect."

"I'm fine, Mother," Emma replied softly. "And yes, I've been taking care of my baby. I was supposed to have a doctor's appointment this morning."

Victoria sat in a chair across from the couch, watching Peter hover over Emma. "Jumping out of a car certainly isn't a way to take care of anything, now is it?" She turned to Peter. "Darling, would you like something to eat? Or some brandy, perhaps?"

"No, thank you, I ate on the way here," Peter replied with a syrupy smile. He sank down on the couch, his eyes trained on Emma. "Don't you have something you want to discuss with Victoria, dear?" he asked her. "Isn't that why we're here?"

Emma fought the urge to throw up with all the strength she had left in her body, straining so hard she started to shake.

Victoria cocked her head. "Emma, do you want some tea? You're white as a ghost."

Emma managed to nod. "Actually, may I have some orange juice? My blood sugar's low."

Victoria rose and motioned for her daughter to follow. "I'll get you a cool washcloth. Come on." She allowed Emma to exit the room and leaned over to kiss her husband. "Welcome home, sweetheart."

"Thank you, sweetie. Keep a close eye on her," he warned Victoria.

"Of course." Victoria followed Emma into the kitchen, watching as her daughter fought to remain upright. The older woman rushed to her daughter's side and helped the pregnant woman brace against the counter. "I know what he's done," she whispered. "It's going to be all right."

Emma turned her head and looked at her mother. Was she lying? She had to be. Victoria Kelleher never saw past the end of her nose - or Peter's. "May I have my orange juice now?"

Victoria stepped back, unable to read her daughter's expression, and unable to tell if Emma believed her. She poured a large glass of juice for the girl and set it sharply in front of her.

_I don't believe this. Her husband's a kidnapper - again - and she's pissed at me because I don't buy for a second she didn't help him?_ Emma took a long sip and regarded her mother angrily over the rim of the glass.

"Stop being stubborn and listen to me," Victoria hissed, watching for movement out of the corner of her eye. "The police are on their way."

Emma set her glass on the counter. "Why should I believe you?" she hissed back. "You've fucked me over almost as much as he has."

Victoria squared her mouth. "We should get back. I don't want him walking in on us." She motioned for Emma to leave first, and followed her daughter back into the living room. She took her seat, watching as Emma searched the room again. "So, darling, what are your plans now?" she asked Peter. "Are you going to be in town for much longer?"

"Oh, I'm not sure," he replied flippantly. He glanced between Emma and Victoria, unnerved by his wife's darting eyes. "Victoria," he drawled, "have you done something awful?"

Victoria laughed. "Of course not, darling. I'm just trying to figure out why Emma's acting more strangely than usual. Is there something fascinating with my window treatments, Emma Katherine?"

Emma stiffened. "No. They're still ugly as sin."

Peter stood, his face flushing with fury. "You did!" he bellowed, hands on hips in outrage. "What have you done, you ungrateful whore?" His eyes demanded an answer.

Victoria's mouth dropped open. "Peter John Kelleher, don't you dare take that tone with me. I've done nothing, for heaven's sake. Sit down." She rolled her eyes and shook her head. "Two years away, and this is how you treat me?"

Peter stepped across the room and his fingers closed around Victoria's stark-white throat, crushing her pearls against her skin. "You called the police, didn't you?"

Emma stood up and grabbed Peter's arm, yanking him off her mother. "Knock it off, you arrogant shithead."

Victoria rubbed her throat. "I did no such thing!" she protested, blinking heavily at Peter. "Why would I do that? You've done nothing wrong!"

Turning swiftly, Peter exchanged his grip on Victoria for one on Emma. He squeezed her neck tightly until she began to gasp for air. "Tell me, Victoria," he growled, gaze focused on Emma, writhing in his grasp. "Tell me what you've done."

"Peter!" Victoria leapt up and tried to pry his strong fingers from Emma's neck. She saw her daughter begin to lose consciousness and finally gave in. "I called Detective Benson. But she's in Manhattan. She's not going to be here for hours. You could be long gone by then. Take my car. Take anything you want. I have cash in the safe upstairs. Just go. Leave Emma; you won't be in any trouble."

Releasing Emma with a dissatisfied grunt, Peter turned to Victoria. "You know what I want, darling," he breathed. "I want us to be a family; a proper family the way we would've been, years ago, if only she had let us." He gestured toward the young blonde.

"She was always the problem, Peter. Always the mistake. I never wanted her anyway. She was so tiny when she was a baby; I should have ended it then and saved us all this heartache." Victoria cupped Peter's cheek. "She knows you're her father, the only one that's ever cared for her. She knows she's an ungrateful little girl. Don't you, Emma?"

Emma whimpered as her back hit the couch, and she wheezed an incoherent reply.

Victoria shook her head and made sure Peter's gaze remained on her face, not her daughter's. "I don't think she deserves to be part of our family."

"I'm not talking about her, you simpering cow." Peter shook his head in disgust. "She's going to get what's been coming to her for almost fifteen years. You and I are going to raise her baby as our own."

Victoria did a magnificent job of keeping the shock and disgust off her face. "The baby is better off with us, anyway," she agreed, looking over at Emma. The toll of the day had finally settled in, and the blonde was slipping in and out of consciousness.

"Stop manipulating me, woman," he thundered, shoving Victoria away so hard that she stumbled backwards. "I am not your toy. When is the good detective arriving?"

For the first time, Victoria was scared. "I don't know," she replied honestly. "I called her right after you called me. I'd think probably two hours or so."

Peter nodded wordlessly, glancing at Emma's crumpled body. "Then I guess we wait." He gestured toward the couch. "Have a seat. Let's talk."

---------------------

Olivia's foot was pressed to the floor, urging the speedometer's needle past one hundred. The lone light on the roof of her car clung precariously to its perch, flashing red as she swerved off the highway. She pulled off the main road, following Alex's directions to Victoria's house and grudgingly slowing down. When she screeched to a stop down the block from the small brick house, the detective jumped out of the car, relieved to see the swarm of police cars blocking the cul de sac entrance. Jogging to the nearest officer, Olivia flashed her badge. "Detective Benson, Manhattan Special Victims. Status?"

"I'm Detective Garrett," the case agent introduced himself. "We've evacuated the neighbors and set up a rough perimeter around the house. We have three confirmed inside; two female and one male. They're seated in the front room. We have a good shot of them through the window there." He pointed toward the bay window of Victoria's living room. "We have not made any contact, per your instructions."

"Good, good." Olivia fished her cell phone out of her pocket and dialed Emma's cell. Ten rings later, she hung up and tried Victoria's home phone. No one in the living room moved, and the detective sighed in frustration. "Bullhorn?" she asked Garrett.

"Jackson, get the bullhorn," Garrett ordered. The officer did as he was ordered, and handed the instrument to Olivia.

Garrett's radio crackled, and he nodded to the brunette. "Snipers are in place. SWAT is on their way."

Olivia cleared her throat and clicked the bullhorn on. "Peter, this is Detective Benson. I'm authorized to get you anything you want, provided you can prove that Emma hasn't been harmed." She waited for his reply, her stomach in knots. By all rights, she was too close to be involved in that particular hostage crisis, but nothing could have kept her from Emma.

Peter nudged Emma with his toe and shook his head. "Get up, bitch."

Emma whimpered, and her head lolled back. Victoria rose and helped Peter guide Emma to the front window.

The blonde opened her eyes and winced against the harsh police lights flashing across the windowpane. She thrust her head away, but could not make any other moves - she just stood.

"Emma," Olivia called through the bullhorn, "it's Liv. Are you okay, honey? Wave if you're okay."

"Wave, Emma," Victoria whispered, helping Emma to raise her hand.

Emma flopped her arm slightly and leaned against her mother. She wanted so badly to go to sleep, to just shut her eyes and rest.

"All right, Peter," Olivia's voice boomed. "Victoria's got my cell phone number. Call and tell me what you want, and I'll make it happen. We just want this to be over, quick and quiet."

Victoria breathed a silent sigh of relief as Peter let her guide Emma back to the couch. She got the cordless phone and dialed Olivia's phone number, handing it to her husband. "You can go out the back entrance," she murmured. "The house backs right on to the woods. They'd never catch you."

Peter shook his head, waiting for Olivia to pick up. She did, almost immediately. "Detective Benson." He chuckled softly. "You have nothing I want. Everything I want is right here in this house, and I have no intention of leaving until we've settled this."

"Settled what?" Olivia asked, slightly panicked.

"Settled our affairs, so to speak." Peter chuckled loudly. "Ta ta." He hung up and tossed the phone on the couch, turning to Victoria. "Get me a glass of water."

Victoria did as she was asked, leaving the room slowly, trying to compose herself. She rushed back into the living room as she heard a loud crash.

Emma was standing over Peter, clutching what was left of a shattered lamp. Peter was on his knees, touching the back of his head. "You have two dozen cops outside," Emma was seething, adrenaline finally coursing through her body and waking her up. "Don't tell me you actually think you're going to get away with this shit."

"This shit?" Peter repeated, climbing to his feet. "This shit is the beating of your life, child." He raised his fist.

"Peter!" Victoria cried out, but it was too late.

The crack of Emma's cheekbone being broken was so loud that Victoria actually dropped the glass of water and covered her ears. Flinching, she begged Peter to stop.

Emma flailed against Peter's hands and arms, warding off several blows. But when he landed a punch, it knocked the wind out of her. She jabbed him back a few times, but her extremely pregnant belly limited her agility and ability to fight back.

Grabbing Emma by the hair, Peter dragged her toward the back of the house, muttering about privacy. When Victoria attempted to follow them, he screamed at her to stay, as if she were a dog.

Striding into the guest bedroom, Peter flung Emma toward the bed and locked the door with one swift motion.

Emma screamed out as she hit the bed, and curled into a fetal position. She whimpered, rocking herself in a vain attempt to stop the pain. She leaned back against the headboard and raged at Peter. "Just kill me, for Christ's sake. Just get it the hell over with."

"Don't you wish," Peter seethed. "I have a bone to pick with you," he crowed, standing over her. "Your sister, too, but I'll start with you. You have ruined my life, little girl. From the moment I met your mother, you and Alexandra have been nothing but trouble. You are the destruction of everyone in your life, starting with Victoria and ending with that poor dyke you've conned into thinking you're a human being. Oh, and let's not forget the children that the state of New York was stupid enough to entrust to your care and the baby you're carrying." Peter's voice was a low growl by now, as he listed his grievances against the prone figure on the bed. "Given enough time, I'm sure you'd sully them, too. Well, I won't let you. I'm going to correct your mistakes, here and now, as I should've done years ago. I suppose then I was just too busy with torturing you. That ends here. Well, soon, it will," he chuckled. "But not yet."

Olivia handed the bullhorn to Garrett and nodded. "I'm goin' around the side," she informed him quietly. "He's not gonna negotiate." The detective double-checked her Kevlar vest and slunk around the house, keeping low and peering into every window she found. Each one led to an empty room, but Olivia kept going, until she could make out the muted sound of raised voices behind brick walls. Staying in a crouch, the detective rose just enough to peer through the window. Peter's eyes darted in her direction and she dropped to her knees, gun cocked, praying he hadn't seen her.

"You know what I think?" Emma managed, wheezing and wiping the blood from her face. "I think you're jealous. Because I've finally accomplished what you've wanted for so long. I'm happy, you Goddamn coward. If you kill me today, I'll be happy. I'll go down with a smile on my face. And you can't stand that. You can't stand the fact that you'll never break me."

"I don't have to break you, Emma, darling. I'm going to kill you today, and then everything that you love will be mine. Oh, I know it's clichéd," Peter giggled like a schoolboy, "but frankly, it fits." He raised his gun to Emma's face with a sadistic grin.

"Caroline would be so proud," Emma was almost stunned at her own calm.

"Don't you **dare** bring her into this!" Peter shouted.

Olivia flinched, backing away from the house and craning to see what was going on inside. All she could see was Peter's angry face.

Peter cocked the hammer of his gun. "She was twice the woman you are," he crowed, "and if I ever find out you had something to do with her murder, I'll..." He paused, trying to think up a threat worse than death. "I'll make sure every one of your children pays for the rest of their lives."

Emma chuckled. "Oh, Peter. So blind in so many ways. I would have thought you'd never consider me strong enough or smart enough to carry out her murder. I'm touched. Really."

"I'm not implying that you did it," Peter chuckled, leaning over to slap Emma's face hard. "I think you know something you're not telling. You hide things about as well as your mother, you know?"

"Well, I didn't do it. But yes, I know something." Emma searched Peter's eyes, blinking away the tears that came with his stinging hand against her face. "But you don't want to know. You just want to get on with it." She opened her arms, an invitation. "Let's go then."

"No, I want to know. Tell me. **Now**."

"Her death was ruled an accident," Emma spat. "She was a falling down drunk, Peter. Or didn't you notice? She had too much to drink that night and fell against the marble counter. Gave herself an aneurism. Nobody murdered her. She drank to deal with you. So, if anybody's responsible, it's you."

"You're a liar!" Peter boomed. His gun hand had dropped and he raised it again shakily. "You're slandering the name of the only good thing in my life, you **bitch**."

Olivia captured Peter in the sight of her gun and took a silent, steady breath. She waited for him to make a move she could justify reacting to.

Emma shook her head. "I'm not lying. She fell down that night. Her blood alcohol level was three times the legal limit. She was ashamed of you. She had to drown herself just to deal with you. She never believed you were innocent. She came to me after I proposed a deal in the civil trial. We talked for hours, made amends. She was disgusted by you!" Emma shook her head, breathing heavily. "You were a plague on her life, too. Just as you are on everybody else."

"Shut up," he screamed. "Shut up!" The gun shook violently in his grip. "You're going to die today."

Olivia squeezed the trigger gently and the report of the gun resounded in her ears.

Emma screamed and huddled against the headboard, turning her head away as Peter flopped on her lower legs. She could hear Victoria screaming across the house, but dared not lift her head. She covered her stomach, begging God to end her suffering.

The police stormed the house at the sound of the gunshot, discovering Peter's body draped over Emma. They hauled him up and within moments, Olivia's hand was cradling Emma's cheek. "Em, it's Olivia. Emmy?"

The scream that left her body was a combination of a catharsis and the adrenaline of sheer terror. She sobbed for a moment, and gasped for air, trying to breathe and scream at the same time. She clutched at Olivia, hysterical.

"Emma, Emma, it's me, it's okay." Olivia slid onto the bed and pulled her sister gently into her arms.

A swift kick from her belly jarred Emma from her hysterics. "Is he dead?" she asked breathlessly, rubbing her stomach.

"I don't think so." Olivia sighed as she smoothed Emma's hair tenderly. She glanced over at the EMTs working frantically on Peter. "You okay?"

The pain in her stomach intensified, and Emma shook her head. "I don't think so," she managed, her eyes wide. "Oh, God, Olivia."

"What's wrong? Talk to me," Olivia insisted calmly, tugging Emma gently into a sitting position.

"I think...I think I might be in labor." Emma tried to breathe and slow down her heart rate. "Ow." She exhaled loudly. "I lost consciousness, couldn't breathe. I think the baby might have been affected. I don't know; I can't tell what's happening." She started to breathe heavily, willing the baby to stay put and be okay.

"Hey, hey." Olivia slid off the bed and crouched down in front of Emma, pressing her palm to the blonde's cheek. "Breathe, okay? Breathe deep, and slow." She used her free hand to beckon one of the EMTs. "We need a bus."

"Well, ma'am, we've only got one, and he's bleedin'." The paramedic shrugged helplessly.

"She's priority," Olivia snapped. "Call a second bus for him, we're going now." She stood and held out her arm for Emma to use as leverage. "Can you walk, Em?"

Emma nodded, and rose, thankful Victoria had moved into a one-story home, and she didn't need to navigate any stairs. She continued to breathe, making it outside and with Olivia's strong help, into the ambulance. "Where's Amy? And Allie?"

"They're with Connor and Anna, on their way up. As soon as you're on your way to the hospital, I'll call Alex's cell and tell them to meet you there," Olivia assured her, turning to step out of the ambulance.

"No, no, no, no. Stay, please." Emma shook her head. "I need you to stay with me."

Olivia turned back and caught sight of Emma's frantic face. "Okay," she replied, climbing back into the vehicle. She settled on the bench and reached for Emma's hand. "You did amazingly well," Olivia said with a loving smile. "I'm really proud of you."

"It's kind of sick that it's getting easier with time," Emma replied, letting the EMT hook her up to an IV and a monitor. She looked out across the property as the other ambulance arrived, and she saw the dozens of police officers stand down and start their investigation. In the midst of the activity stood her mother, looking as lonely and lost as she'd ever felt. "It's also kind of sick that I feel sorry for her," Emma said to Olivia, motioning to the haggard looking blonde outside.

"She's the reason we even knew about him," Olivia said, brushing stray hair off Emma's forehead. A rush of love overwhelmed her, and she suddenly remembered why the Cabots were so important to her. "Your mom's really trying this time, Em. She loves you, and she's really starting to show it the best way."

"So she did call you?" Emma's voice was tiny among the din. "She was telling the truth. Goddamn."

"You want me to get her?" Olivia offered as the ambulance's engine rumbled to life.

Emma was still for a moment. Finally, she shook her head. "There are still a lot of things I have to understand in order to fully forgive her. I know that makes me a horrible person, but one afternoon does not a lifetime undo. Just...make sure she's taken care of, okay?"

"Yeah. And for the record, you're the most forgiving person I know. I think you're justified in taking your time." A police officer stepped up and Olivia nodded in thanks as he shut the door, and they headed off toward Rochester General. As they drove, Olivia fished her cell phone out of her pocket and dialed Alex's cell.

"Olivia?" Alex picked up immediately after she noticed the brunette's cell number on her caller ID.

"Yeah, baby, it's me. Emma's here and she's safe."

Alex took a shaky breath. "Oh, thank God." Turning to Amy, the blonde nodded. "She's okay." To Olivia, she said, "Where are you? What happened exactly?"

Olivia glanced at Emma, squeezing the blonde's hand. "I'll tell you all about it later, okay? For now, just let Amy know that Emma thinks she might be in labor. Meet us at the hospital."

"We're on our way," Alex confirmed. "Tell her we love her."

"Will do." Olivia hung up and leaned over, kissing Emma's temple. "That's from the girls. How're you feeling?" she asked, concern lacing her voice.

"I'm scared," Emma admitted, gripping the metal rails of the gurney as the ambulance took off toward the hospital. "I don't want to lose the baby."

Olivia raised her voice over the ambulance's engine, leaning toward Emma and stroking the blonde's hair. "It's okay," she promised, "that's not gonna happen. Just think positively."

Emma exhaled deeply several times and twined her fingers with Olivia's. It still amazed her just how much she relied on the brunette for strength and support. "You remember the first time we did this?" she asked with a gentle smile. "The boat?"

"How could I forget? You looked ravishing in that particular shade of black and blue," Olivia teased with a gentle smile.

Emma chuckled. "Don blamed me for weeks after that. Said having to lift me up and carry me out aggravated his back. I reminded him that I'm aggravating even when he **doesn't** have to pick me up, but you know Don."

Laughing softly, Olivia shook her head. "How does Amy put up with you?"

"A lot of alcohol and daily Paxil," Emma said with a smile. Her stomach clenched again and she winced, leaning toward Olivia. "God," she whimpered, squeezing her hands tightly, as if sheer willpower would protect her.

"Hey, hey," the detective murmured. Her heart pounded as she ran one hand over Emma's forehead, rubbing the blonde's pregnant belly gently with the other. "It's okay. We'll be at the hospital soon, and they'll take care of you."

Emma's face crumbled, and she finally began to cry. Save for her screaming fit, the entire ordeal had been an out of body experience. Now, in the back of an ambulance with only Olivia to hold her together, the vastness of what she had just endured hit her head-on.

"Shh," Olivia soothed. "Shh." She let Emma cry for a few moments, then slipped into her sternest detective-voice. "Emma Kate, you need to calm down. These hysterics are no good for you, and they're definitely no good for your baby."

Emma was able to calm herself down and rested her head on Olivia's shoulder, her cheeks and nose reddened. "What did Allie say?"

"She said they're on their way to the hospital, and they sent their love."

Without turning around, the driver pulled back the curtain separating him from the belly of the vehicle and announced, "Pulling into Rochester General."

His partner, who had been trying to remain unobtrusive, monitoring Emma from the corner, nodded. "Ma'am," he said to Olivia.

She, too, nodded. "Okay." Olivia knew the rules; when they stopped, she would step aside and let the EMTs do their job. Turning her attention back to Emma, Olivia smiled gently. "You made it."

Emma managed to nod, squeezing Olivia's hand. "Don't go too far," she requested with a shaky grin. "I don't do hospitals."

"I'm right here." Olivia hopped out of the ambulance as soon as the doors opened, escorting Emma's gurney through the ER and into a curtained area. Once she was settled, Olivia pulled a chair up to Emma's bed and took her hand again. "Okay, now we're getting somewhere," the detective said with a little grin. "Couple of doctors, a muscle relaxant and you'll be good as new."

A middle-aged brown-haired woman pulled back the curtain and smiled at Emma and Olivia. "I'm Dr. Macy," she said with a smile. "I'm the OB on call."

"Ah, a Miguel Ferrer fan." At the doctor's confused look, Emma picked at the threads on the blanket draped over her legs. "Never mind."

"How far along are you, Emma?" Dr. Macy asked, taking Emma's blood pressure.

"Thirty two and a half weeks," the blonde replied, watching as another tech pulled in several other machines.

"Good," Dr. Macy encouraged. "Your blood pressure is pretty low. Did you lose consciousness?"

"Yes," Emma replied with a nod, lifting her gown to allow the doctor to do a sonogram.

"Any trauma to your stomach?"

Emma shook her head. "I...I don't remember much. A little."

"Any pain as a result?" The doctor squeezed some gel onto Emma's stomach and started an internal exam.

"Yes." Emma was a bit unnerved by the worried edge to the doctor's eyes.

Saying nothing further, Dr. Macy concentrated on the pictures from Emma's stomach. "All right," she said softly. "Come on, baby." She shook her head after a minute and looked at the tech and nurse that had come in to the curtain area. "I need an OR, now."

Emma took a deep, shuddering breath. Before she could say anything, Dr. Macy held a strong hand over hers. "Your baby's suffered today. The placenta has detached from the side of the uterine wall. We need to get it out now."

The blonde's eyes filled with tears, and she grasped for Olivia's hand. Dr. Macy continued softly, speaking directly by Emma's head. "I'm going to do everything I can to save your baby, okay, Emma? You just need to hang on."

Olivia couldn't see through the haze covering her eyes. Adrenaline coursed through her veins as she murmured soft reassurances to Emma. "Emma, I'm gonna go call Amy so she knows where to find you when she gets here. I've gotta go outside to use my cell phone, though. I'll be right back."

Emma nodded, trying to remain calm as a flurry of activity and hospital personnel started to surround her.

Olivia slipped out and called Amy, bringing her up to speed. She received an ETA and strode back into the ER. "Your girl's gonna be here in half an hour," she promised Emma. "You're stuck with me until then."

Emma managed a watery smile. "I'm very happy to be stuck with you." She bit her lip and wiped the tears from her face. Her next comments were cut off by Dr. Macy's return.

"We're going to get you upstairs now," she said, unlocking the gurney wheels and pushing Emma toward the elevators.

"Wait, wait," Emma begged. "I have to wait for my wife."

Dr. Macy looked at Olivia. "You're not with her?"

"No. Well, yes, but I'm her sister," Olivia clarified. She leaned down and murmured in Emma's ear. "Honey, we can't wait for Amy. My little niece or nephew is really anxious to join us, and I don't think we can stop that. So you just take a couple of deep breaths. I'll wait for Amy down here and as soon as she gets here, I'll send her up. It'll be okay."

Emma shook her head. "No, I need you up there. If you can stomach seeing my innards," she chuckled. "Please, Liv."

"Okay," Olivia said, smiling despite herself. She turned to the doctor. "Can I join her in a minute? I'm just gonna leave a message at the nurses' station for our family."

Dr. Macy nodded. "Of course. Shawna, will you bring her upstairs?"

Shawna nodded. "I'll be right there."

Emma squeezed Olivia's hand and turned to Dr. Macy. "Let's go."

Olivia watched them roll Emma away, then took a deep breath. She headed for the nurses' station, and left word there for Amy to join them upstairs as soon as she arrived. Finishing, she turned to Shawna. "Lead the way." The aide led Olivia upstairs where she washed and donned a sterile gown, gloves and a mask. Olivia's stomach churned as she followed Shawna into the operating theater. The aide gestured toward Emma's head. "You can stand over there, just try to stay back," she warned.

Nodding, Olivia slipped up beside Emma and stroked her hair in a familiar pattern. "Hey, babe," she murmured. "Feelin' okay?"

"This is so not fun," the blonde replied. Her arms were completely spread apart, and she could only let Olivia's hand rest on hers and stare at a blue sheet that separated her from the doctors trying to get the baby out. "They have to give you like six needles, and they won't even do a tummy tuck while they're down there."

"Aw, you don't need it," Olivia encouraged. "Your pudge is fine just the way it is. How excited are you?" she asked, switching topics rapidly.

"I just want everything to be okay," Emma replied softly. "I'll have decades to be excited as soon as they get her out." She was able to turn her head and watch Olivia, only grimacing slightly as the doctors pulled at her stomach. "Nice hat."

"You're choosing **now** to harass me about my fashion sense?" Olivia teased. She peered over the curtain, grateful that her job had trained her to be nearly immune to the sight of blood. "Almost there," she encouraged. "I think I see a head. Either that, or you've got a lot more pudge than I thought."

Emma tried to breathe through the suffocating feeling of the doctors trying to deliver the baby. She was able to link her fingers with Olivia's, and shut her eyes as the doctors pushed down on her chest to get the baby out. "Keep talking," she requested through a wheeze. "Just talk to me."

"You're doing fine," Olivia replied, slightly frantic as she saw the pale creeping into Emma's face. "Just keep breathing. I think they're almost there."

"We are," Dr. Macy confirmed. "Get the NICU team ready," she said lowly to one of her residents. "You're doing just great, Emma. You'll have a baby in a minute." She raised her voice and nodded encouragingly to Olivia.

Emma's eyes slipped shut as the tugging continued. "What I wouldn't give for some Ellio's pizza right now," she said softly. "You remember when I made that for you while Allie was in Boston?"

"Oh, yeah," Olivia replied, curling her hand around Emma's shoulder. "Pizza and tequila. Man, we were lucky we didn't end up smashed the next day. Or in bed together," she chuckled.

"Not that I didn't try," Emma laughed breathlessly, grunting as Dr. Macy and the surgical team continued to work furiously.

"You weren't the only one," Olivia grinned, hoping to distract Emma from the situation at hand.

"There's always a part of me that wonders," the blonde confessed, watching more doctors enter the room and prepare the baby warmer.

"Wonders what?" Olivia asked, putting a finger beneath Emma's chin and tilting the blonde's face toward her.

"Wonders what would have happened if we had let us happen," Emma smiled, despite her discomfort.

"Oh, we probably would've had amazing sex," Olivia lowered her voice belatedly, "numerous times, and then realized we didn't have enough in common to sustain a romantic relationship. But enough about me and Alex," she chuckled, "I think I'm about to be Aunt Liv."

"Okay, Emma, almost done here." Dr. Macy pulled a little bit more, asking for suction. "There we go. A baby girl. 22:15." The doctor handed the baby to the NICU team, and Emma prayed her daughter would start crying. "Olivia?" she finally asked. "Is she okay?"

"She looks okay," Olivia whispered reverently, squeezing Emma's hand tightly. "I'm gonna go find out." She let go of Emma long enough to step behind the nurse giving the baby an APGAR test. She waited impatiently until the test was completed, then tapped a nurse on the shoulder. "Ma'am?" Olivia pleaded quietly, "what's her score? How is she?"

"She's a five right now. She's having some trouble breathing," the nurse replied. "But she's got a strong will - look at her kick." She intubated the baby, and looked at Olivia. "Do we have a name for this little girl?"

Olivia glanced back across the short distance, smiling encouragement at her sister. "She's solid for now," she fibbed slightly. "What's Lily's middle name, babe?"

"Her full name is Olivia Grace," Emma said. "We're calling her Lily for short."

Fighting back a rush of emotion, Olivia shook her head. "That's just silly, Em. Come on."

"You're going to argue with me after the day I've had?" Even though she couldn't see the brunette's face, Emma knew the detective understood her tone and could imagine the glare on her face. "Amy and I decided. You don't get a vote, shorty."

"I'm taller than you," Olivia countered, turning back to the nurse with a shrug. "Apparently, it's Olivia Grace Cabot Hudson."

"Sounds like a future president's name to me," the nurse replied with a smile. "We're going to move her to the NICU now," she told Olivia. "We're going to help her breathe for just a little while longer."

Dr. Macy looked over the sheet at Emma. "We're going to take Lily and run a few tests to make sure she's okay."

"Olivia, go with her, please," Emma requested. "Just stay with her and start talking her ear off. She needs an early introduction to the gabbing."

Olivia smiled through the sheen of tears covering her eyes. "Okay. Holler if you need me." She bent down, pressing her lips to Emma's. "I'm so proud of you, girlfriend."

"I love you," Emma whispered. "Take care of her for me."

"I love you, too." Olivia straightened and brushed Emma's hair once more before following the nurses to the neonatal intensive care unit.

Alex threw her car into park and raced into the ER, Amy, Anna and Connor following closely behind. "Emma Hudson?"

Shawna heard the name and picked her head up. "You're here for Emma?"

Connor nodded. "Is she okay?"

Shawna smiled. "She's okay. You have a new sister. Come on, I'll show you upstairs." In the elevator, the nurse leveled with the family. "The baby is going to have some tubes down her throat. She had some trouble breathing when she was born. Don't be scared, though. You can touch her. Emma is in her recovery room. She's sore, but has been asking for you."

Olivia was standing, her hand hovering over Lily's tiny chest, feeling every vibration as the newborn drew breath. She didn't hear her family enter, and barely noticed when Alex laid a hand on the small of her back. Every molecule in her was focused on that small, new life.

"God, she's so small," Alex breathed.

"Olivia Grace?" Connor asked, reading the nametag taped to Lily's incubator. "I thought we were calling her Lily."

Olivia turned, grinning at Connor and swiping at a tear. "That's her nickname," she explained to her nephew. "Apparently, your mothers decided to name her after me and Aunt Alex without asking us," she laughed.

Alex grinned. "That sounds like Emma." She turned to Amy, who remained in the background. "Do you want to come see her?"

"In a minute," Amy murmured, stepping forward slowly. "God, she's so little." She glanced up at Alex, eyes wide. "Is she supposed to be that small?"

Alex wrapped an arm around the redhead. "She looks strong," the elder blonde said. "She's six pounds even," she read. "I wasn't much bigger than that when I was born."

"Me, either," Olivia confirmed, finally straightening and letting Lily go. "Nowadays, kids are usually upwards of seven pounds, but the nurse says anything above five is great, and Lily's really close to full-term."

"Can we see Emma?" Connor asked, looking at Olivia, still in her scrubs.

"I don't know," the detective admitted, reaching up to tug her mask off. "I'll ask." She stepped into the hall and found a nurse, confirming that Emma was allowed to receive visitors. Olivia returned to the nursery and nodded. "We can go say hi, but then we've gotta let her sleep, okay?"

Alex and Connor led the way, followed closely by Anna and Amy. Emma sat up in her bed and smiled as her family entered the room. "Hi, gang."

Alex smiled, letting Amy pass and approach Emma's bed first. "Hey," she said, her voice shaky, eyes tearing. "Don't get up or anything," she teased. "It's not like you just had a baby."

Emma smiled at Alex, and turned to kiss Amy gently. "Did you see her?"

Amy cleared her throat, nodding. "I did," she murmured, touching Emma's face hesitatingly. "She's beautiful, just like you."

Emma leaned her head against her pillows, motioning for Connor and Anna to come sit on the bed. "Amy, it's over," she said softly, watching the redhead's worried face. "I'm fine, as is Lily. Everything's okay."

"That's what we said last time," Amy said softly, worry lines creasing her pale skin.

"No," Olivia interjected. "It's really over now. Peter's..." She glanced from Connor to Anna. "He's been dealt with."

Alex took Olivia's hand in hers, able to tell just how drained the day had made the brunette. "I think," the elder blonde said, "that this might just be the new beginning we've all needed."

Emma chuckled. "Allie, that sounded vaguely Hallmarkian."

Alex shook her head, wrapping her arm around Olivia's waist. "The past two decades of your life have revolved around pain and anguish, and looking over your shoulder. You've been a wreck for most of your life."

"Gee, thanks." Emma rolled her eyes.

"You're welcome," her sister replied without missing a beat. "I'm just saying, Peter's staying in prison until he dies. Nobody's letting him out. You don't have to worry any more. You have an entire future ready for you, with Amy and three wonderful kids. You're set, kiddo."

"Yeah, we're pretty cool, if I do say so myself." Anna grinned broadly. "So when do you get to come home?" she asked anxiously. "I wanna play with Lily."

Emma smiled. "I should be ready to go home in a few days," she told the group. "They had to do a C-section, which means I'm going to be a hurting puppy for a while. I don't know when they'll let Lily out, though. We'll just have to wait and see."

Connor looked at Amy, still worried by her silent stance. Amy met Connor's eyes and tried to smile, but failed. He turned his eyes to Emma and took in her bruised body and tired eyes. "Are you really okay?"

Emma was silent for a minute. "Physically, I hurt," she replied honestly. "Emotionally, I'm better, now that I have all you guys here. It's been a long day."

"You need a hug?" Anna asked softly.

"I would love a hug," Emma replied, opening her arms to the kids.

"Hey, hey, share the love," Alex joked, taking her sister in her arms after Anna and Connor were finished. "Love you," she whispered.

"Love you, too," Emma replied, releasing her.

"You know, when I was in the hospital once, Emma bought me the ugliest looking animal on the face of the Earth. You guys wanna go down to the gift shop and see if we can top her?" Alex smiled at her niece and nephew, realizing Emma needed a bit of rest.

"Score!" Connor grinned. "Can we get candy, too?"

"Only if I get some," Emma countered.

"Me, too," Amy echoed weakly.

"Me, three," Olivia chuckled. She bent to kiss Emma, lingering a while on the blonde's cheek, then followed Alex and the kids out into the hall.

Amy turned to Emma as soon as they left. "Are you really okay?" she asked. The tears she'd managed to hold back flooded her eyes and spilled down her cheeks.

Emma nodded, holding out her hand to the redhead. "I'm really okay, sweetheart. I promise."

"I can't lose you," Amy whispered, leaning over and clinging to Emma in the tightest hug she could without hurting her wife.

"I'm okay, baby. I'm not going anywhere." Emma was able to raise her IV laden hand slightly and rub Amy's back. "We have a new mouth to feed. I can't go anywhere or you'll all starve."

"Hey, I can cook oatmeal," Amy chuckled damply.

Emma wiped the tears from her wife's face. "Not very well, baby," she teased. "Today was hell. But there is also a significant part of me that was never afraid. I knew I was going to be okay. I think Allie's right; this is a new beginning for us. We just have to embrace that idea as best we can." The women clung to each other for a while, then sat back. Amy cupped Emma's cheek, memorizing her wife's face with a teary smile.

Olivia stepped back into the room, clearing her throat. "Hey, guys, I hate to interrupt, but I just got a call. It's news about Peter."

Emma swallowed hard. "What is it?"

"He's dead."

THE END


	23. The End

ED. NOTE: Please understand that after the creation of Chapter 22 ("The Beginning"), my co-writer, Celia Stanton, and I divorced, both personally and professionally. However, since so many people have asked what happened to the Benson-Cabot clan after Peter's death, I have decided to answer the question. Some of this is what Celia and I imagined together; some of it is of my own creation.

Alex and Olivia did, indeed, live happily ever after once Peter was out of their lives. They vacillated on the issue of children for a time, but the responsibility of baby-sitting their nieces and nephew turned out to be enough, and they stuck to cats after that.

In the year 2030, Alex and Olivia still live in the house on Long Island. Both women retired a while ago...then promptly realized they were bored to tears. Now, Olivia volunteers as a counselor for rape and abuse victims, and Alex works harder than ever as a pro bono lawyer for the ACLU, Lambda Legal and various other organizations. She was one of a team of lawyers who won the first unequivocal victory in the U.S. Supreme Court giving gays the right to marry nationwide. Ultimately, though, she and Olivia decided not to take the plunge, choosing instead to keep the domestic partnership papers they'd signed years before in the borough of Manhattan. Emma lamented not being able to throw them a huge wedding and promised retribution on their twentieth anniversary.  
Emma's Christmas parties keep getting bigger and better, as she cuts back on her work schedule to spend more time with her grandchildren. (She still can't believe she's a grandmother already and constantly pretends to bitch at Connor and Anna for aging her needlessly.) She tries to convince Amy every year that they need to rent a ballroom at the Waldorf-Astoria, but Amy has yet to give in. They still share late-night sushi and make their kids groan by kissing in public. If they groan load enough, Emma threatens to use tongue.

Victoria died a few years after Peter did. Emma said she died of a broken heart. Alex smacked her. Olivia said it's impossible to die from a broken heart when you don't have a heart. Alex smacked her, too. Kirsten, Caroline's daughter, still comes to visit once in a while, but she refuses to talk about her mother. The only reminder of Peter is that when it rains, Emma's leg throbs. She pops a Percocet and calls her sisters, demanding that they come entertain her, to take her mind off the pain. Because it's Emma, of course, they do.

Connor decided to pursue law enforcement as a career and ended up in the NYPD, in the cyber crimes unit. His teammates still tease him about his aunts' influence, going so far as to call him "Benson, Junior". (He won't admit it, but he hopes it's true, as he's working toward a gold shield himself.) His affection for both his aunts was clear when he brought home his first serious girlfriend, a tall, outspoken, brunette lawyer. Naomi fit right in to the Cabot insanity, and now, so do their twin boys, Alexander and Benjamin.

Anna surprised everyone by following in Emma's footsteps. She'd always been interested in art and when it came time for college, she chose an art degree. She's not an architect, but she inherited (via osmosis, according to Emma) her adoptive mother's love of color and style, and now she makes her living as an interior designer for the hippest New York clubs and businesses. She married a very nice—but quiet—man who gets teased at every family function because he can't seem to get a word in edgewise. Believing that one good turn deserves another, Anna and her husband (who was himself adopted), fostered 16 kids in a span of five years and ended up adopting 5 others, who were a sibling group in imminent danger of being split up. They acquire new foster kids every year and still keep in touch with most of the children who've moved on, which only adds to the craziness at Cabot parties, since everyone is invited. Emma, of course, loves the noise.

And Olivia Grace, the smallest Cabot by far, turned out to be nothing like what anyone had expected. She had dark brown hair that waved and curled exactly like her Aunt Alex's, and big brown eyes which, despite their color, could not have been more like her mother's and aunt's. Lily was a happy child, but inclined to periods of deep introspection. Even as a little girl, she would sometimes squirrel away in her room and not come out for hours. When she did, she would be quiet and serious. As her mothers eventually came to understand, she could read the layers beneath what they said and did and was trying to process it as best she could. She gravitated toward a degree in psychology, which pleased Amy to no end, but after graduation, Lily realized where her passion truly lay. Her first novel was published when she was 23; it was titled "Born Into Darkness" and chronicled her family's twisted history.


End file.
